

ClassJEZM 

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Mawi and Husky Taking a Bath 





Copyright, 1922, 

By D. C. Heath & Co. 

2 I 2 




PRINTED IN U.S.A. 


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©C1A68027 5 


TO 

ETHEL R. PEYSER 

WHOSE INSPIRING ENCOURAGEMENT 
HAS MEANT SO MUCH TO ME 






PREFACE 


These tales were written for all children who 
love to read good stories and at the same time like 
to learn something about their animal friends. 

I have made an effort to give information that is 
authentic concerning the hves, habits, and ap- 
pearance of the animals and have used care on ques- 
tions of climate and vegetation. Having passed 
some time in nearly all the countries mentioned, 
I have, I hope, been able to place these stories in 
their appropriate setting and atmosphere. 

As the earlier years of a child’s life are the most 
impressionable and as at that time the foundations 
for taste in reading are being laid, I have tried to 
clothe this information in a dress of humor and 
charm. Even though the days of prosy moral dis- 
sertations for children are past, there may be a 
precept or two hidden away under the jungle leaves 
of this little volume. 




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CONTENTS 


PAGE 

Mawi and the Elephant i 

One Good Turn Deserves Another 5 

A Game of Ball 10 

The Dear Little Deer 16 

Carrie Carabao 21 

Mother Nature Never Forgets 26 

Billie Mongoose Kills a Snake 33 

Mr. Owl’s Night School {First Session) 36 

Mr. Owl’s Night School {Second Session) 44 

How Pony Dick Came to the Rescue 54 

The Jungle Life-Saver 57 

What Fell on Billie Mongoose 62 

Wits Win 70 

Sunny Bear Goes Coasting 75 

Jungle Babies 79 

A Wild Goose Chase 87 

The Tale of a Tail 94 

Monkeyshines 96 

How Snowy Leopard Lost His Spots 107 

The Morning Bath iii 

How THE Animals Chose a King 116 

The Good Citizen 121 

The Jungle Cafeteria 129 

The Sad Little Blackbird 139 

Husky Tusky the Faithful 142 

Jimmy Frisky and Jane 146 

The Great Escape iS 3 

How Raffy Giraffe Grew Tall 158 

The Jungle Flag 162 

vii 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

Mawi and Husky Taking a Bath Frontispiece 

Through the Air Flew the Sturdy Living Ball .... ii 

“Order!” Commanded Mr. Owl 39 

Soon They Were All Eating Cocoanuts 67 

Down the Hillside Rolled Mr. Bear 77 

Mrs. Grosbeak was Enjoying her Bath 113 

All the Beavers Were Eager for Work 123 

“Good Morning, Dr. Blackbird,” said Wadi ...... 141 

At Last Raffy’s Long Tongue Touched the Leaves . . 159 

Polly Parrot Painted Big Stripes on Stripe y Tiger . . 163 


viii 


IN AND OUT OF THE 
JUNGLE 


MAWI AND THE ELEPHANT 

Away off in Singapore, the palm trees grow very 
tall, and the sun comes down so scorching hot that 
anyone but a little brown boy must run for a shady 
place, or else become limp and dizzy. 

Well, it was on one of these hot, hot days, like all 
the others in the year except some in January which 
are not quite so warm, that little Mawi begged his 
father to let him ride on Husky Tusky when he went 
to work in the morning. The great gray elephant, 
with his rough, tough hide and his twinkling, shoe- 
button eyes, was the little boy’s best friend. Nobody 
knew much about it though, for Husky whispered 
down through his trunk into Mawi’s ear when he 
wanted to talk, and they kept their secrets to them- 
selves. 

But this morning father was very, very firm and 
wouldn’t let Mawi go, for “Business is business” was 
his reply, also “I can’t be bothered,” and all such 
things that fathers say. So Husky just winked his 
tiny, shiny eye, flapped one ear, and whispered to 
Mawi, “Wait till tonight!” 


2 


IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

Then off they went to work, Husky Tusky and 
Mawi’s father. Did you think that elephants never 
had to work? Oh, yes indeed, they must work, and 
you would be surprised to see how willing and skillful 
they are. Husky had to carry big blocks of tin down 
to the ships — big shiny blocks like silver bricks, 
which had been made of tin after it was taken out of 
the mines. The ships with their broad black sides 
were waiting to take this tin all over the world, and, 
who knows, maybe our very own roof is made of it. 

Husky worked patiently all through the hot day, 
while Mawi waited at home, thinking of what Husky 
had whispered down his trunk to him, and trying to 
make the time go fast by moulding little mud images 
and weaving grass mats. 

Evening came at last, and Mawi’s father and the 
great tired elephant came home, tramp, tramp, along 
the dusty road. “Hello, hello, hello,” trumpeted 
Husky as well as he could, considering the thirstiness 
which was choking him. Mawi was so delighted that 
he jumped up and ran to meet his father and the 
big gray playmate. Husky Tusky picked Mawi up 
with his trunk, quickly but very gently, and swung 
him up on to his broad back. There sat the little 
boy, just behind the elephant’s ear, where he could 
talk to him as much as he wanted to, and in this way 
all three slowly wound their way down to the river. 

At sight of the lovely cool pool, Husky forgot all 
about being hot and tired and hurried into the water 


MAWI AND THE ELEPHANT 3 

with Mawi on his back. Many other elephants and 
their drivers were there, taking their evening baths 
after a hard day, but no elephant was so big and 
strong and gentle as Husky Tusky. Mawi was very 
proud as Husky drew the water into his trunk and 
then playfully threw it all over Mawi and his own 
broad back. Husky could trumpet louder than any- 
one else too, and Mawi almost fell off his back with 
glee when Husky sent a long call, shrilling and thrill- 
ing through the Jungle. 

All at once darkness fell like a soft, warm blanket 
over everything. That^s the way night comes in 
countries around the equator — that imaginary line, 
near which everything is very hot. However, that 
is another story which maybe you’ll hear some day. 

Then the large, twinkling stars came out, and 
Husky, Mawi, and Mawi’s father started home in the 
cool evening, for as soon as the sun goes to bed in 
Singapore, the air is no longer hot. 

On the way Mawi saw Billie Mongoose hurry by 
and wave his tail in greeting. Jack, the Monkey, 
chattered ''Goodnight” from a tree above, and 
Grouchy Camel gave a snarl from his surly, curly 
lips, for he was in a very bad mood as usual. 

By this time Mawi was getting very drowsy from 
the soft, regular pad of Husky’s feet on the ground 
and the roily, swingy motion of his body, and before 
Mawi knew it he was dreaming. Did he really 
dream that Husky Tusky walked ever so gently 


4 


IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 


home, that the soft branches of the trees tickled 
Mawi’s little nose, that at his very own door Husky 
tenderly lifted him down with his trunk, and that 
father put his little son to bed? 

This wasnT much trouble for father, because, you 
see, Mawi wore very few clothes and had already 
taken his bath in the river. ThaUs a jolly way of 
going to bed, isnT it? 


ONE GOOD TURN DESERVES ANOTHER 


Bulky Hippo was having a glorious time. He had 
eaten and tramped his way half through a small Afri- 
can sugar-cane plantation, but had not had nearly 
enough. He looked joyfully across the rest of the 
field to a row of watermelons along the edge, which 
would make a delicious dessert. Bulky had an enor- 
mous appetite; but, with a stomach eleven feet long, 
who wouldn’t have to eat five or six bushels of food 
to fiU it? 

‘^Yum, yum,” munched Bulky, ‘Hhis is nice out 
here in the cool twilight. It’s just the way I like it 
— time of day, kind of things to eat, and everything. 
The rest of the family like it fully as well as I do. ” 

He listened for a few grunts of satisfaction from 
the herd, but not a sound! He looked up. Not a 
hippo was to be seen! Bulky was too surprised to be 
frightened, and then too frightened to know what to do. 

“Why, I thought they were coming right along 
behind me,” said Bulky. “What has become of 
them? There’s a raindrop on my nose; now I’ll never 
find them!” 

You see the hippopotamus completely loses his 
scent after a rainfall, so that he is not able to find 
his herd if he has wandered away very far. 

5 


6 


IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 


Poor Bulky stood in the midst of the sugar cane 
which had looked so good to him a short while before, 
sadly munching and listening for a sound of his 
mates. His hearing was about all he had left, for 
his eyesight was very bad. Not a sound could he hear, 
except the splash of the great raindrops on his tough 
hide. The heavy tropical showers usually pleased 
Bulky, but he didn’t like this one, as he was too up- 
set. Something must be done. Never mind those 
tempting, green watermelons now; he must find that 
dear, friendly herd! 

Off trudged Bulky through the cane field, leaving 
it trampled flat under his heavy feet. Out over the 
open space around the plantation he went, and into 
the thick Jungle. The shower was over, but every- 
thing was wet and steamy. The great leaves and 
dripping vines flapped against Bulky Hippo’s rough 
sides and scraped his broad back as he plowed along. 

‘‘Now I’m in the densest, darkest part of the deep 
Jungle,” thought Bulky, “and I do hope I’ll find the 
Winding Way soon!” 

Just then he saw two shining yellow lights, glaring 
out at him through the darkness. In spite of his 
bigness. Bulky was frightened, for there was Blacky 
Panther, stretched along the low limb of a tree, wait- 
ing to drop down on somebody. 

“Only he shall not spring on me,” said Bulky 
to himself as he swerved to one side and crashed 
through the thick growth opposite. A snarly growl 


ONE GOOD TURN DESERVES ANOTHER 7 

of disappointment from Blacky Panther followed 
Bulky. In a minute or two he found that he was 
out on the Winding Way, and not far off he could 
see the Yellow River. When Bulky Hippo came upon 
Ranny Rhinoceros down by the muddy river bank, 
Bulky had never been so relieved in his life. 

“Hello,’’ said Ranny in a cross voice, shaking his 
tiny, thin tail, and wriggling all over. “I don’t sup- 
pose you have any ideas at all, but I’m dreadfully 
uncomfortable and at my wits’ end to know what to 
do about it. You see, this armor plate which covers 
me is very wonderful indeed, made as it is in great 
slabs put together with thinner skin. It is wonderful, 
isn’t it?” asked Ranny in a boastful tone. 

“Yes, indeed, it is very wonderful, of course,” re- 
plied Bulky, “but — ” 

“That’s just it; there’s always a broke in 

Ranny angrily. “Those hinges are perfectly splendid 
for hinging, and I’m as proud as I can be of my 
armor plate. But when tiny insects so small that 
you can’t see them get into the cracks and bite 
and bite and bite, I wish I were hairy and ugly 
like Jacky Monk, or even smooth and slippery like 
Twisty Python. Now just tell me what can a fel- 
low do?” 

Bulky Hippo wasn’t very bright, but he was kind- 
hearted, and sometimes that’s much better, so he 
thought a minute and then said, “I have it! Jump 
into this soft, sticky mud banked by the side of the 


8 IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

Yellow River. It will fill up all those horrid cracks, 
and nothing more can possibly get in.’' 

Ranny didn’t wait a minute, but plunged down into 
the softest, muddiest place he could find, and as he 
went blub, blub, up and down in the mud, he began 
to feel cool and comfortable, and then he thought to 
himself, ‘‘It’s queer how people always overlook the 
things which are right under their noses. Bulky was 
very kind to think of this for me. But what makes 
him so sad, I wonder?” 

Ranny had caught sight of Bulky on the shore, 
looking very gloomy, so Ranny shouted, climbing out 
of the mud, “That was perfectly splendid. Bulky. 
I wish I could do something for you!” 

“Maybe you can,” wept Bulky, who had grown 
more and more homesick every minute. “I’m lost, 
and I can’t scent my herd, because it has been rain- 
ing. I’ve tramped through the Jungle and I came 
near being eaten up by Blacky Panther. I know I’ll 
never be able to find the folks again.” 

“That’s easy,” answered Ranny, who was now smil- 
ing good-naturedly. “I’ll take you home! Come 
on. I’m quite sure your family is in this direction.” 

So off trotted Bulky Hippo and Ranny Rhino, side 
by side, along the Winding Way, through the tall 
jungle grasses and thick jungle vines, and down by 
the Yellow River, as happy as could be. Each one 
was thinking how fine it is to have a good friend, and 
that the best way to keep a good friend is to be one. 


A GAME OF BALL 


Bolita, the armadillo, was feeling sad — yes, very 
sad indeed. He had overheard Jacky Monk saying 
that armor was all out of fashion, that nobody wore 
it any more, and that it looked very funny. Poor 
httle Bolita! His feelings were tender if his shell did 
seem hard. He had always been proud of that 
shell too. Those horny plates had covered and pro- 
tected him well, and even if they appeared to be 
clumsy, they werenT a bit heavy. He could run very 
fast in his armor plate, and could also burrow. He 
never gave anyone time for a second thought about 
catching him. Like a flash, he would dig down deep 
into the ground and go out of sight. 

^‘My coat of mail is not only useful, but very 
beautiful,’’ thought Bolita. ‘‘The splendid pattern all 
over it makes me look as if I were wrapped in a 
fancy blanket. I don’t see what Jacky Monk meant, 
anyway.” 

The little armadillo lives in South America, and 
the people there call him Bolita, which means “little 
ball.” They give him this name because he can roll 
himself up into a tight little ball when he is attacked 
and knows he can’t get away. One small piece of 
hard, horny shell on his head, another on his back, 

9 


lO 


IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

and another over his tail fit together so perfectly that 
no part of his body is exposed. 

Soon saucy Jacky Monk came swinging along 
through the trees. He was holding on first by his 
hands and then by his tail, going in long, easy leaps 
from limb to limb. He was tired of exercise and was 
looking for fun, when he noticed Bolita. 

“There is somebody to tease,’’ thought Jacky, 
chuckling at the idea. “I’ll just drop down and 
pinch his tail.” 

Bolita Armadillo was eating his breakfast. He was 
digging up good fresh roots, and finding a juicy worm 
now and then too, when plop! down dropped Jacky 
Monk beside him. Bolita was dreadfully startled. 
He was so frightened that he rolled up into a ball, 
quick as a wink. Instinct told him to protect him- 
self in that way, as there wasn’t a chance for him to 
run. 

Well, Jacky was the most astonished monkey you 
ever saw. Was this funny round thing Bolita, 
whom he had seen only a second ago? 

“I’ll get hold of his tail, an3rway,” thought Jacky, 
“and I guess he will find out who’s here then. He’ll 
soon learn not to snub folks like this another time.” 

Over and over, round and round, Jacky rolled that 
funny little ball, but no tail could he find. There 
simply wasn’t any tail, not a sign of one, on that 
hard, rough surface; not even a claw, nor a nose, nor 
anything. Jacky was disgusted and disappointed. 



Through the Air Flew the Sturdy Living Ball 


II 


12 


IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 


He was wondering what prank he could play next, 
when he heard a faint rustle in the trees. 

“Oh, hello. Brother Longlegs,'' chirped Jacky with 
delight, as the Spider Monkey leaped into the tree 
above. “Let’s have a game of ball! Here, catch 
this!” 

Then up into the cinnamon tree Jacky tossed Bo- 
lita. Brother Longlegs who was hanging head down- 
ward from a branch by his long tail, which he uses 
just like a hand, caught the httle ball and threw it 
back to Jacky. Over and over through the air flew 
the sturdy living ball. If Jacky was disgusted before, 
how do you think Bolita was feeling now? He was 
even more surprised and disgusted and angry at such 
treatment. But he couldn’t help it, so he just kept 
roUed up tight and hoped Jacky and Brother Long- 
legs would get tired — as tired as he was. 

Playing ball was fun enough, but when the arma- 
dillo simply refused to unroll, Jacky lost interest. 
There was little excitement when he wasn’t at all sure 
that he was teasing Bolita. Maybe Bolita liked it, 
and if that were so, then all the fun was gone for 
Jacky. Monkeys never stick to anything very long 
anyway, so when Jacky called to his playmate, 
“Come on, let’s hunt up some cocoanuts,” Brother 
Longlegs chattered with delight. “Why not do some 
gymnastics too?” he asked, as they went swinging off 
through the trees. They had forgotten Bolita entirely. 

But Bolita hadn’t forgotten that game of ball. 


A GAME OF BALL 


13 

There he lay on the ground, just too frightened to 
move. He was afraid those provoking monkeys 
would change their minds and come back. For the 
longest time he didn’t dare to unroll. Then as he was 
about to stretch out, Shuffle, the ant bear, came 
by and with his long, sticky nose poked at Bolita. 
Shuffle uses his nose to catch ants. He just dives 
into an ants’ nest and brings his nose out, covered 
with enough of these insects for a good meal. It was 
only curiosity and playfulness that made Shuffle roU 
the armadillo over, but Bolita was tired of that sort 
of treatment. When Polly Parrot flew down and 
gave him a few sharp pecks, he thought he couldn’t 
stand it another minute. 

^‘Well, thank goodness, they have gone,” said Bo- 
lita to himself, when Polly had flown with a scream 
into the cinnamon tree, and Shuffle, the ant bear? 
had tiptoed off on his long, awkward claws. He 
looked like a haystack, for his enormous bushy tail of 
coarse hair covered him all over like a fur rug. He 
goes to sleep under his tail at night, because it’s as 
good as a comforter and large enough to tuck in 
around the edges. 

By this time Bolita Armadillo was beginning to 
feel easy in his mind again. 

guess it is aU over now,” thought he. “I 
haven’t any patience with such silly pranks. I don’t 
see a bit of fun in them myself, but, of course, there 
are many different ideas about a joke. Well, here’s 


14 


IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 


for a good stretch at last. My legs are cramped! 
Goodness gracious, what is that?’^ 

A soft paw had touched him — yes, a very soft 
paw. But this paw wasnh small, and the stroke that 
came from it wasn’t gentle, either. It was a heavy, 
powerful blow which sent Bolita Armadillo rolling 
over the ground. Bolita knew whose paw this was, 
too. 

Bouncer Jaguar had slipped swiftly and quietly out 
of the thick Jungle. Bolita is one of his favorite mor- 
sels of food, but is generally too clever for Bouncer. 
Bolita usually burrows so fast into the ground with 
his sharp claws that there isn’t a trace of him to be 
found when Bouncer gets there. 

^^This time I have him,” said Bouncer, purring in 
satisfaction. He can’t see me when he’s all wrapped 
up like that.” 

‘‘Be sure before you boast, Mr. Bouncer,” replied 
Bolita. But he was somewhat frightened all the same. 
He was just talking to himself bravely to keep up his 
courage. 

It didn’t take long, though, to prove that the hard 
little ball was a nut which clever Mr. Jaguar couldn’t 
crack. He rolled Bolita over and over with his paw, 
trying to get his sharp claws inside the shell, but 
never an opening could he find in that tight little 
case. Then Bouncer tried to crush him with his teeth, 
but Bolita was too large to go in between the Jaguar’s 
fierce jaws, and his hide was too tough to be gnawed 


A GAME OF BALL 15 

like a bone. There wasn’t a thing more to be done. 
Pouncer Jaguar was completely defeated — yes, de- 
feated by a little round ball of an armadillo, who 
wouldn’t harm a soul. Bolita was too much for Poun- 
cer, and he had to admit it as he slunk away with a 
rumbly, grumbly growl. Then at last Bolita Arma- 
dillo unrolled. 

‘‘Whew, but that was a tussle,” said Bolita, shak- 
ing himself and stretching. “What a rough fellow 
that Pouncer Jaguar is! With monkeys, bears, and 
big cats, I’ve had a hard day. Well, anyway, I guess 
now Jacky Monk wouldn’t think armor was a bad 
kind of dress to wear. Where would I be if it weren’t 
for my good tough coat? Comfort is better than 
style, and I would rather be safe than in fashion.” 


THE DEAR LITTLE DEER 


(A True Story) 

Fawny Deer gave a gasp of surprise when she found 
herself alone on the mountainside. Where in the 
world had all the other deer gone? She hadn’t real- 
ized that she had wandered so far. Sure enough, 
things didn’t look a bit familiar. The mountainside 
was very bare and stony, and nothing at all she liked 
to eat was there. 

Fawny was very young, and she began to be truly 
frightened. It was growing dark. Big, bright Mr. 
Sun had sent his last, warm, friendly ray over the 
hills, and now the little gray shadows were creep- 
ing into the valley below. Yes, the vaUey below was 
getting very dismal and scary to look down into. 

Guess I’ll keep looking up at the sky,” thought 
Fawny. ^^That little star up there appears cheerful. 
But goodness me, there’s a star down in the valley 
too, big and bright, only it doesn’t twinkle. That 
seems friendly and near. I believe I’ll go down and, 
take a look at it.” Fawny was hungry and lonesome, 
and it didn’t take her long to get down the moun- 
tainside. With her springy little legs, she could leap 
and bound over the rocks at great speed. When she 
reached the valley she came to what looked like a 

i6 


THE DEAR LITTLE DEER 


17 

small hill made of wood, and the star was an opening 
in it, with a bright light shining through. 

Fawny had never seen a house before, or a human 
being either. So when Frankie Jones came out of the 
house just then. Fawny had the biggest surprise of her 
life. She was just too astonished to move! Then 
this two-legged animal made a very funny sound and 
ran into the hill again. While Fawny was wondering 
what she had better do, out came Frankie with a pan 
of milk, which he set down on the ground. Fawny 
could smell it, and it smelled wonderfully good, but 
could she rely on this strange new kind of animal not 
to hurt her? She decided that it was safer not to 
stir. But when Frankie went into the house again 
Fawny ran to the milk as fast as she could and drank 
it up in the twinkling of an eye, for she was very 
hungry. Then she lay down by the side of the house 
and went to sleep. 

Early the next morning Frankie came out and put 
a pan of milk just inside of the house. Fawny wanted 
it so very much that she ventured in. After that she 
never was afraid again, for she knew that this odd 
two-legged creature who spoke to her with a kind 
voice was really her friend. 

One day when Fawny Deer had grown much bigger 
and all the pretty light spots, which only baby deer 
have, had faded from her smooth brown coat, the 
Jones family went for a day^s excursion — yes, every 
member of it. There were Farmer Jones, Mother 


1 8 IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

Jones, Frankie, andFrankie^s jolly little cousin. Matey, 
who had come all the way from India for a visit. 
You see, there was going to be a fair a few miles away, 
with merry-go-rounds, balloons, popcorn, and perhaps 
monkeys and organs, so, of course, nobody wanted to 
stay at home. 

Fawny Deer was the only problem. Farmer Jones 
thought and thought about what to do with her, and 
finally they locked her up in the back woodshed where 
nothing could harm her, and left a big pan of milk 
handy. This was all very well for a while. But 
Fawny didn’t know that the family she loved was 
coming back in a short time, and after the last thud 
of the automobile engine had died on the soft morning 
air, things began to look very gloomy, and they grew 
darker and darker, gloomier and gloomier, as the day 
wore on. Even big drinks of sweet milk couldn’t 
make Fawny feel light-hearted. She looked out of 
the window, up the mountainside. This very moun- 
tainside, which had appeared so bare and stony to 
her once, now seemed to be the loveliest place in the 
world, for it meant freedom. Freedom is what every- 
one wants — freedom to think good thoughts and do 
good deeds. 

Well, Fawny looked out at the sunshine so long 
and thought about it so hard that she forgot there 
was anything between her and the fresh air. All at 
once she jumped right through the window and came 
crashing down to the ground, midst flying glass and 


THE DEAR LITTLE DEER 


19 

bits of window sash. The noise was so loud that she 
was frightened and ran very fast, never stopping until 
she was half way up the mountain. There were a few 
cuts on Fawny’s pretty little sides, but she didn’t 
care. She was out in her own native haunts, and 
was happy. 

When Frankie and Matey came home and found 
that Fawny Deer had escaped, nothing could console 
them. They ran up the stony mountain, out on the 
green pasture, down by the chattering brook, and into 
the whispering woods, calling, calling, calling, but 
Fawny was nowhere to be found. 

Well, of course, after many lonely days, they set- 
tled down to playing without Fawny, for they still 
had Laddie, the bushy collie, and Pony Dick. 
Farmer Jones told Frankie and Matey that they ought 
to be glad Fawny had gone to join her family and live 
in the big, free out-of-doors, where all wild animals 
belong. That made them feel happier about it. 

Now this isn’t the end of the story, oh no indeed! 
One lovely morning a year later, when the boys went 
out to play they gave one great, joyful whoop, and 
Laddie joined in with his loudest bark. Until Mother 
Jones came running to the door and Farmer Jones 
looked around the corner of the barn. What do you 
suppose they saw? 

There was Fawny Deer coming toward them out 
of the soft grass of the green pasture, and beside her 
the tiniest little deer you ever saw, with pretty light 


20 


IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 


spots on its brown coat — just the way Fawny looked 
when she first came to the farm. On she walked, 
looking very proud. She put her soft nose into 
Frankie’s hand and rubbed against him, as much as to 
say, “I’ve brought my beautiful baby to show to 
you, because I love you all very much and trust you.” 

So when Fawny and the baby deer went away 
again that day, up the stony mountain and into the 
Deep Woods, no one felt sad at all, but glad and 
happy, for they knew Fawny had never forgotten 
them. 


CARRIE CARABAO 


It was a very warm day, and Carrie Carabao was 
so deep in a muddy pool that only her blue, china 
eyes and the tip of her nose showed above the water. 
The fact was, Carrie had been having a tantrum. 
She had charged away from her master when he 
was plowing his rice land and had run all around 
in a bhnd fury, ready to attack anything in her 
path. That was how her master knew she wanted 
a bath. 

Carrie is most particular about her bath and makes 
a great fuss if she canT get into the water at least 
once a day. I guess that’s the way we all feel, only 
we have better manners and don’t show it. 

Now when Carrie was ''squdging” around in the 
muddy water and enjoying herself very much, along 
came Timmy Crane. 

'' Hello, Carrie ; having a good time? ” asked Timmy, 
sitting down upon the only spot on Carrie’s back 
which showed above the water. 

''Perfectly lovely,” replied Carrie, "but I must con- 
fess that I was horrid today. I acted just like a 
spoiled baby. Something dreadful ought to happen 
to me.” 

"Something dreadful will happen to you, if you 
21 


22 IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

keep on going around half-blind the way you do/’ 
said Tim. 

You see, the water buffalo, which is another name 
for the big, gray carabao, has very poor eyes and can 
see only dimly, so she has to rely on the sense of 
smell to know when a hostile man or animal is too 
near for safety. But the water buffalo is fortunate 
in having a certain kind of bird as a companion, for 
when the bird flies away, the water buffalo knows 
that he must look out for danger. 

The great, clumsy carabao is very useful to the 
people who live on the other side of the world. In 
China, Japan, India, and our own Philippine Islands 
he draws carts, grinds sugar cane, and plows rice 
fields. He is very gentle with those whom he knows, 
and a little native boy who can’t even reach up to 
the water buffalo’s nose can drive him anywhere. In 
India sometimes, when a great herd of carabaos is 
taken out to graze, a small boy is the only one left 
to look after them. But they grow fierce and dan- 
gerous when white people come near. 

^‘Now please do get some glasses, Carrie,” said 
Timmy Crane. 

‘‘But I’m afraid they won’t be becoming to me,” 
replied Carrie, “and then you will not like me as well.” 

“Nonsense,” cried Tim. “If I weren’t your best 
friend and didn’t think so much of you, I’d call you 
a big, silly baby; so there!” and off he flew. 

This was something to think about! Carrie was so 


CARRIE CARABAO 


^3 

upset that she didn’t enjoy her bath any more and 
climbed up on dry land to collect her thoughts. 

Just then Stripey Tiger strolled out of the Jungle 
into the tall grasses. He wouldn’t have dared to 
come near the rice paddies if he hadn’t been so 
hungry. 

“There’s Carrie Carabao,” thought he. “She’ll 
make a splendid meal. My, how good she will taste!” 

He stood very still and watched the tall grasses to 
see which way the wind was blowing. Sure enough; 
it was just right for him, and just wrong for Carrie. 
The wind was blowing away from Carrie, so she 
couldn’t scent him. 

“Everybody knows she can’t see much, and if she 
can’t smell, I’m safe,” thought Stripey, as he slunk 
slowly along until he was near enough to spring. 

But Stripey didn’t count on Carrie’s having a good 
friend to help her. Yes indeed, a very good friend 
she had! We all know that there’s nothing better in 
the world. 

You see, Timmy Crane was flying as fast as he 
could, back to Carrie, for he was growing more sorry 
every minute that he had been so cross to her and 
had called her a big baby. Even if she was a little 
foolish, she had always been very kind and good to 
him. 

When Timmy reached Carrie, he quickly rested 
upon the spot on her back which showed above the 
water, and was just going to tell her how sorry he 


24 


IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 


was, when he saw Stripey Tiger crouched down, long 
and flat. Timmy knew what that meant. 

‘‘Oh, Carrie, Carrie; quick, quick! Run! Run 
through the pond, quick!” 

Carrie didnT wait a second, for she knew Tim’s 
familiar voice and remembered that Timmy Crane 
never told her to do anything which wasn’t right. 
Into the muddy pool she plunged and swam for the 
other side as hard as she could. Then up the slip- 
pery bank she climbed, and along the wet path 
through the rice fields, on and on, ran Carrie Carabao 
until she was so much out of breath that she had to 
stop. 

“Well,” said Timmy, who had been flying along 
above Carrie all the time, “it’s lucky I got there just 
that minute!” 

“ Wha-wha-what was the matter?” panted poor, fat 
Carrie. “I never had such a run in my life.” 

“Why, Stripey Tiger was crouching in the Jungle 
grass, ready to spring upon you, poor dear. Of course, 
you didn’t know it, as you couldn’t see him, and the 
wind was blowing the wrong way for you to scent 
him, for, I must say, you have as good a nose as any 
of us. Stripey was afraid to get too near the rice 
paddies where your master might see him, so Stripey 
preferred to look for his dinner somewhere else, I sup- 
pose. That’s the way it all happened. I was just 
coming back to tell you how sorry I was that I had 
said all those cross things to you today. You’ve al- 


CARRIE CARABAO 


25 

ways been good to me, and we have had jolly times 
together.’^ 

“Why, Timmy, don’t feel badly about that,” said 
Carrie. “I know you didn’t mean to be cross, and if 
it hadn’t been for you, I would have been eaten up 
by this time. I think I ought to have glasses!” 


MOTHER NATURE NEVER FORGETS 


‘Ht seems to me there is always something after 
me/’ sighed Springy Gazelle, with a sad look in her 
large, tender eyes. “I am so small and helpless too, 
it isn’t fair.” 

‘‘That’s right. Springy,” joined in Swift, the ante- 
lope. “I’m not small like you, but I feel just the 
way you do about it. I don’t see why everybody 
should be chasing me all the time.” 

“Why, aren’t you ashamed, you two?” cried Billie 
Mongoose, whisking his tail. “There aren’t two faster 
runners in all Africa! You can outstrip Mr. Lion 
himself, and even if Swift, the antelope, couldn’t run 
fast, he is more than a match for his Majesty with 
those long, strong horns of his. Goodness, but you 
are ungrateful, when Mother Nature has done so 
much for you. She hasn’t forgotten any of us, it 
seems to me. We all have our special kind of protec- 
tion.” 

“Billie is right,” trumpeted Husky Tusky in a 
shrill, clear voice. Mother Nature has been very good 
to me, I know. Look at these good, strong tusks of 
mine! Why, even Stripey Tiger fears them. Then I 
can help the rest of the herd, too, and that is the best 
of all. If I scent danger, I can warn my friends by 

26 


MOTHER NATURE NEVER FORGETS 27 

blowing shrilly through my trunk, or giving a few 
sharp taps on the ground with it” 

“No indeed, we haven't any of us much to com- 
plain of," rumbled Stripey Tiger. “If Husky Tusky 
uses his tusks against me, why, I simply hide from him. 
My beautiful coat of yellow and black looks so much 
like the blades of golden Jungle grass and the dark 
shadows between, that the sharpest eye can't see me." 

“You are no better off than I am," said Snowy 
Leopard proudly. “ My thick white coat melts right 
into the whiteness of the snow, up in the mountains 
where I live." 

“There is Raffy Giraffe too," cried Billie Mongoose. 
He hasn't any voice and can't speak for himself. 
Look at him now in the shade of that tall tree. His 
yellow coat and brown spots are lost in the dappled 
sunshine and shadow, and with his head way up 
among the branches he looks exactly like another tree 
trunk." 

Raffy glanced gratefully with his large, timid eyes 
at Billie, and would have liked to add: “I am very 
speedy too, and beware of a blow from my powerful 
hind leg if I am cornered." 

Mrs. Ostrich knew just what Raffy wanted to say, 
so she piped up, “Well, he's not the only one who 
can kick, and I am swifter than the fastest horse my- 
self. One of my strides covers fourteen feet." 

“But you run in circles, and that makes it easy for 
men to catch you," hissed Twisty Python. 


28 IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

''Yes, that is true, Twisty,’' said Mrs. Ostrich in a 
meek voice. “ It’s a very bad habit, and I ought to 
break myself of it. But don’t tell anybody about it, 
please.” 

"We all have a few bad habits, I guess,” grunted 
Ranny Rhino. "I have a way of charging at things 
rather blindly and missing them many times too. 
That is probably because my eyes are bad. But 
Mother Nature made up for that. My scent is keen, 
and my hearing is wonderful. Isn’t that so. Bulky 
Hippo?” 

"Yes, I’ll have to admit it, Ranny, since you helped 
me find my way home that time,” replied Bulky, 
yawning. "But in some ways I am better off than 
you. I can close my nose and my ears and go 
right to the bottom of the river when there is any 
danger near. I should like to know who else can do 
that?” 

"Well, I can,” said Baby Crocodile. "I can go to 
sleep under the water, and when I doze on the muddy 
bank you can hardly tell me from an old tree trunk. 
But come on. Bulky; let’s take a stroll in the Yellow 
River.” 

"Perhaps he can make himself look like an old tree 
trunk,” hissed Twisty Python, "but I can do some- 
thing just as surprising. When I am coiled around 
the limb of a tree, I am exactly like one of the big 
thick Jungle Vines.” 

"Pooh,” squeaked Old Mother Bat, "there isn’t one 


MOTHER NATURE NEVER FORGETS 


29 


of you who has the fine protection that I have! Even 
when I am flying on the darkest night — and you 
know that is the time when I like best to fly, I never 
run into anything. In my wings, made of skin, are 
nerves so sensitive that I can feel objects without 
touching them. If a branch or a wire were ten inches 
away, I could feel it.” 

‘‘My, my, my! but that is splendid,” said Quiller 
Porcupine, with a rustle. “I can’t feel things as well 
as that, but, I assure you, they can feel me if they get 
too near. When I am attacked, I just hide my head 
under a stone or a root, flatten out my body, raise 
these sharp quills of mine, and lash my tail about 
fiercely. I look so terrible that men and animals are 
generally frightened away. But if an animal is bold 
enough to come near and get some of my quills stuck 
in him, he usually dies, unless they are taken out. 
These sharp barbs of mine keep working into his 
flesh, instead of coming out.” With that, Quiller 
gave another rustle of his cruel little spears. 

“That sounds very fierce. Brother Porcupine,” said 
Busy Beaver gently. “My methods are different. 
When I hear dangerous sounds, I just go plop! down 
deep into the water, but first I warn my comrades by 
giving the water a loud slap with my tail.” 

“That is very kind of you. Busy,” whistled Ibey 
Ibex. “We do that sort of thing, too, up in the 
Himalaya Mountains where I live. We post a sen- 
tinel high up on a crag, to call to the others at the 


30 IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

approach of danger. But we are such climbers that 
even man, with his deadly gun, finds it hard to reach 
us. He doesn’t dare to go leaping from crag to crag 
as the ibex does. We are a sure-footed, steady-headed 
tribe. No height is too steep, and no cliff too dan- 
gerous for us.” 

“Well, I think I am cleverer than all the rest of 
you,” called Yelper, the jackal. “Just as soon as I 
am caught I pretend to be dead. I have lain per- 
fectly still for an hour with a dog teasing and worry- 
ing me all the time. But let my captors take their 
attention from me for a second, and I am up and 
away. That is the only reason why I am here at this 
meeting today.” 

“That doesn’t seem to me a very brave way to 
act,” barked Wild Dog Dhole of India. “When my 
family is all running together in one big pack, we are 
not afraid of anything, even of Stripey Tiger and 
Grunty, the wild pig. In all the Jungle there are no 
animals more feared than we. Of course, our great 
protection is that we never go alone.” 

“Your courage may be all right. Brother Dhole,” 
growled Old Gray Wolf, “but, as for me, give me 
caution.” 

“That sounds to me a little like fear,” screamed 
Polly Parrot impudently. 

“Well, whatever it is,” growled Gray Wolf, “it 
keeps me from running into danger. When I am 
frightened myself, I can turn the tables and frighten 


MOTHER NATURE NEVER FORGETS 


31 

others. My howl is so terrible that the hunter thinks 
a whole pack of wolves is after him.’’ 

“Please, may I speak?” said a faint, little voice. “I 
know most of you can find at least one place where 
you are hidden from view, but I can be invisible any- 
where. I think that is something to be really glad 
about,” said Cammy Chameleon in her slow drawl. 
“I can turn green when I am on a leaf, and brown 
when I am on the ground. At night I may be gray, 
and the next morning have pink and brown spots. 
In fact, I take the color of the object I am resting on, 
whatever it is. It’s lucky for me that I have this 
power too, for I am lazy — yes, dreadfully lazy. 
Sometimes when I lift my foot, I just can’t make up 
my mind to put it down again for a whole minute. 
At that rate, you know a couple of yards is a good 
day’s journey, and I never could get away from any- 
thing.” 

“Oh, dearie me,” gloomily sighed Carrie Carabao, 
the big water buffalo. “You are all so well off. 
Mother Nature just forgot me, I guess. I can’t see 
much, and I can’t hear very well, and if the wind is 
blowing away from me, I can’t scent anything.” 

“Why, Carrie Carabao,” piped up Timmy Crane 
reproachfully. “You hurt my feelings when you talk 
that way!” 

Then poor Carrie felt so sorry that she began to cry. 

“How could I forget such a good friend as you, 
Timmy?” she wailed. “Why, I believe I am luckier 


32 IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

than all the others put together, for you not only sit 
on my back and warn me of danger by flying away 
when it is near, but I do not get lonesome when you 
are there. Oh, please do forgive me, Timmy! I will 
never feel sorry for myself again.’’ 

“There, you see!” called Billie Mongoose, as he 
frisked off through the Jungle. “We are all much 
more fortunate than we think.” 


BILLIE MONGOOSE KILLS A SNAKE 


Husky Tusky, the elephant, had just come out of 
the Jungle into an open place and was sunning his 
big gray sides and flapping his large gray ears, when 
along came Billie Mongoose, scampering hurriedly, 
with his bristly tail straight out behind him and his 
bright little eyes looking this way and that. 

Oh, hello, Husky,’’ said he. I’m in a great rush 
to get back to the folks. I just happened to think 
that it’s nearly six o’clock, and there’s going to be 
cake with icing for supper.” 

Away Billie went, over the very green places and 
the very dry places, through the little brown river, 
which seems to be there on purpose to make a fellow 
late when he’s hungry, and on and on, a long, long 
way, to the edge of the town, where good Mr. Burnet 
lived. 

Billie loved Mr. Burnet, Mother Burnet, little 
Matey, and his sister Mollie. You see, once upon a 
time Mr. Burnet had been kind to BiUie, when he 
found him with his little soft paw caught in a cruel 
steel trap. He set Billie free and put something on 
his paw to make it well. So Billie was grateful and 
stayed around the house, killing rats and mice and 
playing with Matey. 


33 


34 IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

As Billie dashed along towards home, he was think- 
ing about Matey with the blue eyes and sturdy legs. 
When Billie finally reached the house, he peeped in 
at the door and sniffed the good things for supper. 
There they sat — father and mother, big sister, and 
httle Matey, all at the table as happy as they could 
be. Billie waited a minute at the door. He looked 
at the big cake in the center of the table, then down 
at the floor and saw — oh, what do you suppose? — 
his deadly enemy, the cobra, with his hood spread 
out. There he was, standing on his twisted tail, in a 
way snakes have, ready to spring at the bare foot of 
Matey, which hung down far enough for the cobra to 
reach it with his wicked fangs. 

Billie was at his wits’ end, because he was tired 
after his run. Besides, he was a very little mongoose, 
and the snake was unusually large. But in a second 
every hair on Billie’s gray body rose stiffly with hor- 
ror and anger as he gathered up his courage. He 
knew it would be a long, hard fight. Then he sprang 
at the cobra as quickly as one of those sharp darts of 
lightning which come on a showery night. 

Out of the door went the snake, with Billie after 
him as fast as he could go. Then the snake turned 
on Billie and lashed and slashed from right to left as 
quick as a flash, trying to reach Billie with his poi- 
soned fangs. He kept Billie Mongoose dodging so fast 
that Matey, who was watching from the door, could 
see nothing but a furry, blurry ball. 


BILLY MONGOOSE KILLS A SNAKE 


35 

‘‘I must do it; I must do it now/’ said Billie to 
himself. ^^This is for Matey/’ and he jumped on his 
enemy’s back and bit and bit behind his head until 
the corba feU back limp and lifeless. 

But this isn’t the end of the story, oh no indeed! 
Matey picked up poor tired little Billie Mongoose, 
who hadn’t any strength left, and took him into the 
house, where everybody petted him. Then Matey fed 
Billie the largest piece of cake with thick icing you 
ever saw. Everyone was too happy to speak. But 
Billie was happiest of all, for he had done something 
for Mr. Burnet by saving Matey’s life. 

You remember how kind Mr. Burnet had been to 
BiUie. To return this kindness, gave Billie Mongoose 
that good, warm feeling around his heart, which after 
aU is better than all the cake with icing in the world. 


MR. OWL’S NIGHT SCHOOL 


• {First Session) 

“I think it’s about time we were learning some- 
thing,” said Billie Mongoose, whisking his tail and 
winking his bright little eye, ^‘instead of just playing 
around all day — excuse me, all night. I forgot that 
some of us sleep daytimes.” Billie looked meaningly 
at Stripey Tiger. “My friend Matey goes to school 
and learns many things. Now if there were only 
someone in the Jungle wise enough to teach us, we 
could have a school too.” 

“I know somebody who will do this,” said the 
Secretary Bird, shaking the quills back of his ear im- 
portantly. “It’s Mr. Owl. He’s very learned and 
often wants me to write things down for him with my 
nice quill pens. Let’s go and ask him!” 

So off went Billie Mongoose and the Secretary Bird 
to visit Mr. Owl, who was just beginning to blink in 
the growing darkness. “Well, well,” said he, “let me 
see. I’ll think about it. Yes, I’ll accept the honor, 
but you must have the school at night when I can 
see, for you are a naughty lot and need an eye kept 
on you.” 

“Come, then, right away, please, Mr. Owl, as it is 
getting dark and all the animals are waiting in the 
36 


MR. OWL’S NIGHT SCHOOL 


37 

clear place of the Jungle where the elephants dance,” 
cried Billie. 

‘Mil be your assistant,” said the Secretary Bird, 
shaking his quills, “for, goodness knows, youll want 
one with all the wonderful things you are going to 
teach. Ill take the class in writing, especially.” 

When Billie and the Secretary Bird came back with 
Mr. Owl, everyone tried to giye a rousing Jungle-folk 
cheer, but it wasn’t a great success. Mr. Owl’s big 
round eyes appeared to be very severe, just like 
grandpa’s when he looks over his spectacles. The ani- 
mals knew that no tricks would be played behind Mr. 
Owl’s back, for couldn’t he twist his neck all the way 
around and literally have eyes in the back of his head? 

“Order!” commanded Mr. Owl, tapping the branch 
on which he sat. “Who- who- who recites first?” 

There was dead silence. Even Stripey Tiger looked 
as if he would like to be at home in his cozy cave. 

“Well, if you have all lost your voices,” said Mr. 
Owl, “I’ll teach you first the Law of the Jungle, 
and woe to anyone who breaks it. Listen and 
remember!” 

“ It is Not Honorable to Attack Man Except in Self- 
Defense! ” 

This made Stripey Tiger even more uncomfortable, 
but everyone else seemed earnest and impressed. 

“Now, Husky Tusky, you are the biggest boy in 
the class. Speak up and tell us something about your 
trunk. Do you pack clothes in it?” 


IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 


38 

'‘No, sir,'' rumbled Husky, raising this self-same 
trunk high in the air as he spoke. "I can wash my 
thick gray coat with it, though, and I can do work for 
men with it, besides. I can carry trees and logs, load 
boats, and push heavy wagons, and with one blow of 
my trunk I could break a man's limbs." 

"But you wouldn't do that, would you, Husky?" 
asked Mr. Owl. 

"Oh, no sir, hardly ever," replied Husky Tusky, 
flapping his big gray ears and looking out of his twink- 
ling little eye, "except when I have been treated un- 
kindly and am very angry, for I like men and, most 
of all, babies. Why, I dearly love to rock a cradle, 
and sometimes — " 

"Very good, Husky," said Mr. Owl, "you've recited 
your lesson well. Now I think Polly Parrot has some- 
thing to tell us, by the way she shakes her head and 
snaps her beak." 

"Haven't I, though?" cried Polly at the top of her 
lungs. "I have lived to be a hundred years old and 
have never forgotten what I have learned. I'd like 
to know who of you could remember anything so long. 
Besides — " 

"What in the world are you crying about. Baby 
Crocodile?" broke in Mr. Owl. "To-whit, to-who! 
Who could keep school with such a disturbing 
lot?" 

"Boo-hoo-hoo," wept Baby Crocodile, "Jacky 
Monk is making faces at me, and I want to stick my 



‘‘Order! ” 


Commanded Mr. Owl 


39 



40 IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

tongue out at him, but I can't, because it’s fastened 
down to the floor of my mouth. Boo-hoo-hoo!” 

''That’s just the reason why it is fastened there, 
silly child, so that bad little crocodiles cannot be im- 
polite,” said Teacher Owl. "Now smile and be good, 
and I’ll tell you something very nice to know. If 
you ever want to lie a while on the bottom of the 
river, swallow a few stones and down you drop. As 
you go, simply pull down the little skin blind which 
is above your eyes, and you will be ready for a quiet 
nap.” 

Baby Crocodile was now smiling so broadly that 
both sets of his fierce teeth showed and gave Lizzie 
Lizard, who was sitting next to him, such shivers that 
she couldn’t recite. 

"Next,” called Mr. Owl, before Lizzie could re- 
cover. "what do you know about claws, Stripey 
Tiger?” 

"I know that they are very useful when I want to 
kill, and that they have to be exercised. In order to 
do that, I draw them back into their sheaths and 
thrust them out again. This keeps them clean and 
sharp too. But when I want to play with my soft 
little roly-poly babies, my claws are neatly tucked 
away so the}^ can do no harm.” 

It was evident that Stripey was on his best 
behavior, and everyone sighed with relief. 

Twisty Python came next. You see, nobody liked 
to sit beside Twisty, so they put him between Stripey 


MR. OWL’S NIGHT SCHOOL 


41 


Tiger, who wasnT afraid of anything, and Billie Mon- 
goose, who especially had no fear of snakes. 

“Rouse up. Twisty, and tell us something we should 
all like to know,” said Mr. Owl. 

“I’m a constrictor,” hissed Twisty, “and my tail 
is prehensile!” 

“Oh,” gasped Lizzie, Jacky, and Polly in awe and 
alarm, for what Twisty Python did or said was 
always more or less startling. 

“Explain those big words,” demanded Mr. Owl, 
staring at Twisty with his great round eyes. 

“I’m a constrictor because I coil around my prey 
and crush it, and my tail is prehensile because I can 
use it like a hand to hold on to the branches of trees,” 
replied Twisty Python proudly. 

“Oh, look at Bulky Hippo!” giggled Polly Parrot. 
“He looks like a wet brown barrel!” 

Swish, swash, thud, bump, came Bulky out of the 
Yellow River. 

“Late as usual,” said Mr. Owl. “What excuse have 
you? ” 

“Why, please, Mr. Owl,” panted Bulky meekly, “I 
was having a nice walk on the bottom of the 
river.” 

“ How in the world can you do that. Bulky Hippo- 
potamus? I wonder if you are fibbing,” said Mr. Owl 
severely. 

“No, indeed, I am not fibbing, sir,” answered Bulky. 
“ I just close my nostrils and ears, and then the thick 


42 


IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 


oil which comes out aU over me like a raincoat keeps 
the water out. But that isn’t all I can do. I can 
upset a river boat if I hump up out of the water 
suddenly.” 

“That will do,” said Mr. Owl. “It’s your turn to 
recite, Grouchy Camel.” 

“I don’t want to,” snarled Grouchy. 

“Come, come; that’s not the way good little boys 
talk,” replied Mr. Owl. 

“I don’t want to be a good little boy,” said 
Grouchy. “I won’t be good; so there!” 

“Go over to that tree immediately and turn your 
face to the trunk until I tell you to come away,” 
hooted Mr. Owl in his most terrible voice. “Now we 
will go on with the lesson. Will you please recite, 
Mrs. Bear?” 

“Yes, indeed,” said round little Mrs. Bear. “I’d 
like to tell you all how I carry my babies on my back, 
and what fun we have. To be sure, they keep tum- 
bling off, and I have to stop continually to let them 
scramble up again. Maybe I am so awkward because 
my forefeet toe in.” 

“Thank you, Mrs. Bear, you recited very well,” 
said Mr. Owl in a drowsy voice. “Now, Billie Mon- 
goose — but, dear me, there’s Big, Bright Mr. Sun 
creeping up, and I am beginning to get sleepy. School 
is dismissed for today. You may go. Grouchy Camel.” 

“Please, sir; I’m sorry I was cross, and I’ll try to 
be good/’ said Grouchy. 


MR. OWL’S NIGHT SCHOOL 


43 

‘‘Well, well, we shall see. Good morning, all!’’ and 
Mr. Owl was lost in his sound daytime sleep. 

Two minutes later, when Mr. Sun looked over the 
tops of the trees, there wasn’t a trace of the Jungle 
folk to be seen. 


MR. OWL’S NIGHT SCHOOL 


{Second Session) 

‘‘Where in the world are those children?” cried Mr. 
Owl, as he fluffed up his feathers and blinked his eyes 
drowsily. “They ought to be coming back to school 
by this time.” 

Big, Bright Mr. Sun was just disappearing below 
the green tree tops, and the little purple shadows had 
already begun to creep up and hide behind leafy 
boughs and mighty tree trunks. Night was coming 
on, which seems an odd time to have school. But 
animals are not like boys and girls, all fresh and 
" bright in the morning. Most animals are liveliest 
when darkness falls. 

“Suppose I call the scholars,” said Mr. Copper- 
smith Bird to the Secretary Bird, who had just joined 
him. “I should like to do something to help Mr. Owl 
if I can.” 

“Oh, please, do call them, Mr. Coppersmith Bird. 
That’s the very thing to do!” said the Secretary Bird, 
joyfully. “You are the town crier of the Jungle, and 
a good one, too.” 

So the Coppersmith Bird made that funny noise 
which sounds exactly like a little hammer beating on a 
copper kettle. “ Rat-a-tat- tat, rat-a-tat-tat, ” was 

44 


MR. OWL’S NIGHT SCHOOL 


45 

heard over and over again throughout the Jungle. 
Into the Twisty Vines, along the Winding Way, down 
by the Yellow River, and up into the Little Hills, it 
echoed. 

Soon, very soon — you just wouldn’t believe that 
they could get there so quickly — the animals began 
to gather. Clustering and crowding, surging and 
swaying around Teacher Owl they came. 

There were many more than on the night before. 
Animals from India, Africa, Australia, and South 
America were present — animals with long tails, short 
tails, and no tails at all; some with tusks, some with 
teeth, and some with neither teeth nor tusks; some 
who could growl, some who could grunt, and some 
who couldn’t make a sound. The most beautiful, 
the homeliest, and the oddest animals you ever saw 
in your life came trooping in. All were eager to 
learn. Every one of them had heard of Mr. Owl’s 
wonderful school. 

^^But how did the news travel so fast, I’d like to 
know?” cried the Secretary Bird. 

‘‘Oh, Polly Parrot and Teddy Toucan are as good 
as a Jungle newspaper, and I helped a little myself,” 
chattered Jacky Monk. 

By this time Mr. Owl was wide awake. When he 
saw all those eager scholars, he was astonished. He 
couldn’t believe his eyes. “Am I still asleep and 
dreaming?” asked he aloud. Then round and round 
and round he turned his large flat head, trying to see 


46 IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

all the animals as they came pouring in from every 
direction. 

When the throng had gathered in a big circle about 
the breadfruit tree and everyone had stopped talking, 
Teacher Owl rapped the branch on which he sat, 
blinked his great solemn eyes, cleared his throat with 
a loud Whoo-whoo,’’ and said: 

‘‘It gives me the greatest pleasure to see so many 
here on our second night of school. Among you are 
some from foreign lands. These strangers are aU wel- 
come, and we shall try to make them feel at home.” 

Stripey Tiger and Spotty Leopard looked at Raffy 
Giraffe and Boomer Kangaroo as if they would just 
like to make Raffy and Boomer welcome — yes, in- 
deed, as welcome as a good square meal. But all the 
others gave them kindly glances. 

“We shall start today with Grouchy Camel’s recita- 
tion,” called Teacher Owl in a commanding voice. 
“He was a good boy yesterday to say he was sorry 
for being naughty. You may begin. Grouchy.” 

“Thank you, sir,” said Grouchy, who was now good- 
natured. “But you see I really can’t help being cross 
sometimes, when my master loads me too heavily on 
a long journey, or when I lie down in the desert at 
night and he forgets to see that my pack touches the 
ground. I am not relieved of its weight then, and so 
I can’t rest. However, I have many things to be 
thankful for — my long eyelashes, for instance, which 
protect my eyes from the sandstorms, and my nos- 


MR. OWL’S NIGHT SCHOOL 


47 

trils which I can close in order to keep out the sand 
during these storms.’’ 

‘‘That’s splendid, Grouchy, and very interesting,” 
said Mr. Owl. “Now let us hear from one of our 
Australian friends. Boomer Kangaroo, you ought to 
be able to tell us something about tails.” 

“Indeed I can, Mr. Owl,” cried Boomer, “and I 
could show you about them, too, if anyone should try 
to harm Mrs. Kangaroo or little Joey. My tail is so 
strong that I can strike down a good sized dog with 
it. But it has a plain, everyday use as well. See how 
easily I sit here with my tail for a support. It’s hke 
the third leg of a stool. Fine, isn’t it?” Boomer added 
proudly, “and it makes up for my short fore legs, 
which I confess don’t amount to much.” 

“Goodness, just listen to him,” burst in Jacky 
Monk, jumping from limb to limb and chattering 
with excitement. “Anyone would think he had the 
only tail in the world. That’s nothing compared with 
what I can do with mine.” 

“Tut-tut, hoot-hoot,” cried Mr. Owl severely. 
“Don’t you know it’s very impolite to interrupt, 
Jacky Monk? I’m surprised at you! Now if you 
have anything to tell us and can speak quietly, you 
may do so.” 

“Well, I guess sitting on one’s tail isn’t as wonderful 
as using it to help spring from tree to tree,” chattered 
Jacky. “ My tail is prehensile just as much as Twisty 
Python’s, and he talked a lot about his last night. 


48 IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

When a party of us monkeys get together in the 
South American Jungle, we join hands and tails, and 
swing across rivers and groves of trees to very great 
distances, never touching the ground. It’s almost as 
good as flying, I say.” 

“Oh, I don’t think it is,” squeaked wise old Mother 
Bat, who had slipped in to see if there were anything 
more she could possibly learn. 

“Why don’t you think so. Mother Bat?” asked 
Mr. Owl with great respect, as the fame of Mother 
Bat’s wisdom was widespread. 

“Because, you see, from my point of view flying is 
a very fine art,” replied Mother Bat more pleasantly. 
“I can fly so swiftly and quietly that I can catch 
insects in the air as I go along. Besides, I can drop 
from a tree where I am hanging head downwards, and 
instantly use my wings like a parachute.” 

These remarks, added to the things he had heard 
about the wonderful nerves in Mother Bat’s wings, 
made Teacher Owl’s eyes grow bigger and rounder 
than ever. Everyone else looked much impressed too. 

“We are greatly honored to have you come to our 
school. Mother Bat,” hooted Mr. Owl, beginning to 
puff up and fluff up with importance. “But what on 
earth is that terrible sound? I don’t like being dis- 
turbed like this! Why, it’s Laugher, the hyena. 
Stop it! Stop it right now. Laugher! Aren’t you 
ashamed to be so noisy? Bless me, what’s the matter 
with the child?” 


MR, OWL’S NIGHT SCHOOL 


49 


“Ha-ha-ha!’^ roared the laughing hyena, as he 
jumped up and down on his hind legs with excite- 
ment. “IVe come all the way from South Africa to 
tell you about myself, and now you won’t give me a 
chance to talk. I think it’s just too fimny for any- 
thing.” 

“There, there, Laugher; calm down and speak a 
little lower. Polite persons never disturb others, you 
know,” said Mr. Owl in a gentler tone. “Haven’t 
you any manners?” 

“But, please, Mr. Owl, what’s the use of having 
such a fine voice if I must keep still all the time? 
Mr. Chimpanzee is the only other animal in the world 
who can laugh, and his is just a silly little chuckle. 
Why, I can keep every traveler in the Jungle awake 
with my terrible laughter. Now I call that something 
to be proud of!” 

Then Laugher danced up and down, nodded his 
head, and ran back and forth as if he were mad. 

“Well, perhaps it is something to be proud of,” said 
Teacher Owl doubtfully. “Of course, no two people 
think the same about things. But it seems to me that 
yours isn’t exactly laughter. Mr. Chimpanzee 
chuckles when he really feels jolly, but you laugh 
when you are only excited. Now where is Humpty, 
the Sacred Bullock? Did I see him here tonight?” 

“Here I am, sir,” said Humpty gently, from some- 
where in the back row. 

Humpty has a very kind disposition and isn’t in 


50 


IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 


any way spoiled, even if the Hindus always let him 
have his own way. They allow him to help himself 
at fruit stalls and to lie undisturbed in the middle of 
the street while traffic turns out for him. 

‘‘If you please, Mr. Owl, I’m very useful, although 
I am worshipped and petted,” said Humpty, the Sa- 
cred Bullock. “I pull carts, draw water from deep 
wells, work the mill which squeezes juice from the 
sugar cane, and turn the stones which grind mortar. 
All the while my master sings me a song of encourage- 
ment. Would you like to hear it?” 

“You have recited very nicely, Humpty,” said 
Teacher Owl, “but Big, Bright Mr. Sun will be catch- 
ing us if we don’t hurry. Is there any news from 
South America which you can give us. Bouncer 
Jaguar?” 

Just in time Mr. Owl was, too, for Bouncer was 
creeping over nearer and nearer Jacky Monk, and 
Jacky was beginning to feel very uncomfortable. 

Bouncer Jaguar was handsome in his tan coat, 
dotted all over with brown rosettes, but he growled a 
bit unpleasantly as he replied: “Yes, that clever new 
trick of mine will bear telling, I guess. You see I 
sometimes get tired of monkey meat for breakfast.” 

Bouncer gave a wicked glance at poor Jacky Monk 
and Reddy Howler, whose teeth began to chatter with 
fright. 

“Then I go fishing,” continued Bouncer, “not with 
a hook and line, either. I should say not. I simply lie 


MR. OWL’S NIGHT SCHOOL 


51 


very flat along the branch of a tree which overhangs 
the Yellow River and let the tip of my tail splash 
gently in the water. Do you suppose those silly little 
fishes swim away when they hear the splash? Not a 
bit of it! They think it^s fruit falling from the tree, 
and they rise to the surface to get a bite, when biff! 
my paw comes down and catches them.’’ 

‘‘Well, speaking of paws,” said Mr. Owl, who was 
glad to change a disagreeable subject, “do I see some- 
one holding up his paw, or am I mistaken? It is 
growing just a httle too light for my eyes. Oh, it’s 
you. Sunny Bear. Well, what is it?” 

“Please, Teacher, Quiller Porcupine is rolling 
around under my feet, and he makes me nervous,” 
whined Sunny Bear. 

“You roll up into a ball too. Sunny Bear, so you 
shouldn’t say anything,” said Quiller, unfolding his 
round bristly body and shaking his quills with a loud 
rustle like that of dried leaves. 

“I know I do, but I don’t stick sharp things into 
people, so now!” cried Sunny. 

“Well, I’m not big enough to defend myself, like 
you,” squealed Quiller, with a threatening shake of 
his little spears. 

“Here, here, children! This won’t do,” screeched 
Mr. Owl, trying to make himself heard. “Stop quar- 
reling now. You are both very naughty and must go 
right straight home. When you feel like being pleasant 
and polite, you may come back again.” 


52 IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

Now we will go on with the lesson/’ cried Mr. Owl. 
“Springy Gazelle, can you tell us where you got your 
name?” 

“If you think you would like to hear about it, sir,” 
bleated pretty little Springy, “I wiU explain that my 
real name is Springbok. That’s what they call me 
down in Africa where I live. Springy is just for short, 
but I like it better. You would think me well named, 
too, if you could see me leap suddenly into the air. I 
can jump up eight or ten feet, and it’s great fun. 
Shall I show you?” 

“No, Springy, we haven’t time today, but can’t you 
tell us something more about your family?” 

Springy Gazelle looked sad. 

“In former days,” she went on, “my family was 
very large. Sometimes you couldn’t see anything else 
as far as your eye could reach. From edge to edge of 
the great plain, there would be nothing but gazelles. 
They would be so closely packed in together, march- 
ing along side by side, that not one of them could get 
out. Sometimes Mr. Lion would get caught in among 
them and would find himself so tightly wedged in on 
all sides that he couldn’t escape, but had to go march- 
ing along too.” 

“Well done. Springy,” cried Mr. Owl. “Now, Tony 
Bower Bird, what is the latest news from Australia?” 

“ Oh, please, sir, aren’t we going to have any recess?” 
chirped Tony. “I know such a lovely game to play at 
recess. We bower birds play it in Australia. It’s 


MR. OWL’S NIGHT SCHOOL 


53 


most exciting. First we build a sort of bower of 
sticks and grasses in the form of an arch. Then we 
decorate it with colored stones, bright shells, and blue 
parakeet feathers, fastened among the sticks. It’s 
very beautiful. When the work is finished, we play 
tag. Back and forth, in and out, and round and 
round that lovely bower we chase one another. It’s 
the j oiliest game in the world.” 

‘‘That would be a splendid idea for recess, Tony,” 
said Mr. Owl in a drowsy voice. “That’s where you 
get your name, isn’t it? 

“Let me see,” continued Teacher Owl, “whose turn 
comes next? But, dear me, how dull my eyesight 
grows! School is dismissed. Pleasant dreams to aU 
of you who sleep in the daytime.” 

Soon Mr. Owl was fast asleep. When, a little later, 
big, bright Mr. Sun came climbing up the sky, he 
looked down on a very quiet breadfruit tree. Old 
Mother Bat hung there by her heels, and Teacher Owl 
sat with his head tucked under his wing. The noisy 
scholars had gone. 


HOW PONY DICK CAME TO THE RESCUE 


“What can be the matter with Dick, the pony,’’ 
said Farmer Jones, looking up from his desk and out 
of the window, one morning. “He acts queer, running 
up and down and back and forth by the pasture wall, 
and neighing and neighing as if he were very much ex- 
cited about something. There’s no use trying to read 
my paper. I’ll go out and see what the trouble is.” 

So Farmer Jones put on his old straw hat and slipped 
a lump of sugar into his pocket as he passed the 
dining-room table, which was set for breakfast. Then 
he whistled to Laddie, the big bushy coUie, to go 
along. 

The sun was shining so warm and bright, and the 
grass in the green pasture was so deep and thick, and 
the dew on it so cool that any small pony ought to 
have been very happy there indeed. But when 
Farmer Jones and Laddie reached the pasture wall and 
Dick saw them, he didn’t stick his soft nose over 
into Farmer Jones’ hand as usual, nor did he seem a 
bit interested in sugar! He didn’t even pay attention 
to Laddie. 

“Hello, hello,” Laddie greeted him, jumping up to 
Dick’s nose and barking ever so loud. “The top of 
the morning to you, good old friend!” 

54 


HOW PONY DICK CAME TO THE RESCUE 55 

Dick didn’t say a word to Laddie, but started off, 
cloppety-cloppety-clop, as fast as he could go, to the 
far corner of the green pasture. Every now and then 
he looked back at Farmer Jones as if to say: ‘^Aren’t 
you coming? Oh, please do hurry!” 

Poor Laddie’s feelings were very much hurt, be- 
cause Dick had not noticed him, but he followed along 
as he wanted to find out what was the matter with 
Pony Dick. 

Over the wall in a bound they went, across the first 
green knoll, down into the ravine where the cowslips 
grow, through the noisy little brook where Mr. Trout 
lives, up over the rocks so thick with blueberries in 
summer, scrambling and scurrying after Dick, who 
never before in his life had run so fast. You see, they 
had always thought that Dick was very lazy and 
stupid. 

At last they reached the far corner of the Green 
Pasture, and what do you suppose Farmer Jones and 
Laddie saw? They simply couldn’t believe their eyes! 
Why, there lay poor Ned, the old black horse that 
everybody loved, quite helpless and unable to get up. 
Dick was walking around and around him, looking as 
if he wanted to help. You see, when a horse falls 
down and tries three or four times to stand up, but 
fails, he grows discouraged and will not try any more. 
He will just lie on the ground and die if no one comes 
to assist him. That is called ‘'being cast.” 

Farmer Jones called his son Frank, who was stand- 


56 IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

ing on the porch wondering why his father didn^t 
come to breakfast. Together they got old Ned on his 
feet, and after a while he was able to walk to the 
barn. They rubbed him and made him very com- 
fortable with lots of hay and grain. In a few days he 
was well again. 

Farmer Jones gave Pony Dick more lumps of sugar 
than he had ever dreamed of having. Then Farmer 
Jones put his arm around Dick’s neck and hugged him, 
which made Dick the most surprised pony you ever 
saw, for he didn’t know what he had done to deserve 
so good a reward. 

“We’ll never, never again call Dick stupid, will we. 
Laddie boy?” said Farmer Jones with a tear in his 
eye. 


THE JUNGLE LIFE-SAVER 


''1 believe I smell Stripey Tiger/' sniffed Barker 
Deer with his nose in the air. '‘Yes, I'm sure I do, 
and I hear him too." Barker stopped stock-still and 
cocked his ears this way and that. 

"Of course, that's Stripey, and there's no mistake 
about it. He is coming rather close — just a little bit 
too close for comfort. But it doesn't matter to me," 
said Barker to himself. "Some of the other Jungle 
folk are not as swift as I am, though, and can't smell 
and hear as well as I can. He might catch them. 
Guess I'll give them a warning. That wiU be fun 
and wiU make Stripey Tiger perfectly furious," thought 
he. 

Barker Deer is a little fellow — only three feet long, 
with reddish brown hair and two sets of antlers. There 
is nothing very fierce about Barker, except his large 
upper teeth, but he can make a great deal of noise. 
He began to give short, ringing barks, like those of a 
dog. The sound reached Stripey Tiger's sharp ears 
through the thick, dark Jungle and made him think 
what a nice, tender supper Barker was going to be. 

Along came Stripey through the Winding Way, 
creeping up, oh, so quietly, just as you have seen 
Tabby, the cat, do when she is stalking a bird, 

57 


58 IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

Pounce! Stripey sprang into the tangled vines from 
which that clear, joyous bark had come, but, pounce, 
he sprang out again, for Barker Deer was not there. 
There wasn’t a single sign of Barker in those vines. 
Stripey was disgusted and, besides, somewhat ashamed 
that such a tiny creature should get away from him. 
He snarled a sneery snarl and showed his terrible teeth 

Then, “Yap-yap-yap,” sounded that same saucy 
bark from the clump of slender bamboos just ahead. 
“Here I am. Don’t you wish you could catch me?” 
called Barker Deer. 

“Ah, ha, I have you this time, you impudent young 
rascal,” thought Stripey Tiger, and, bounce, he sprang 
into the clump of tall, slender bamboos, but, bounce, 
he sprang out again, for Barker was not there. There 
wasn’t a single sign of Barker Deer in that clump. 

“Where is that pesky fellow?” thought Stripey as 
he went creeping along the Winding Way again, 
growling hungrily as he moved. 

But, “Yap-yap-yap,” came that provoking bark 
again, farther away than before. 

That wasn’t all Barker said this time either, for he 
had spied Jacky Monk picking up cocoanuts on the 
ground and had called: “Get back to your tree tops, 
Jacky; Stripey Tiger is abroad. You too. Fawny 
Deer and Springy Gazelle, shake your little heels and 
scamper away; Stripey is coming in this direction.” 
Jacky Monk didn’t wait a minute, but leaped to the 
topmost branch of a tree. Neither did Fawny and 


THE JUNGLE LIFE-SAVER 59 

Springy delay, but jumped into the deepest thicket 
and hurried away, for they knew that Stripey was 
quick too — one of the quickest of all the Jungle folk, 
and that he relied on that quickness to catch Barker 
Deer. 

Stripey felt sure he could overtake Barker. Why, 
it hadnT been a second since that last silly bark! 
‘‘He is in that very bush now,’^ thought Stripey, and, 
biff, he jumped into the bush with all his might, but, 
biff, he jumped out again, for Barker Deer wasn^t 
there. There wasn’t a single sign of him in that bush. 

“But what on earth is that?” growled Stripey Tiger 
furiously. “That provoking deer is calling again. 
I’m getting confused and irritated, and I’m hungry 
too. Stop that nonsense. Barker Deer! You had bet- 
ter look out. I can find you if I want to,” boasted 
Stripey as soon as he had gotten his breath again. 

Then from afar, in another direction, came a long 
shrill trumpeting. 

“Hoo-roo, hoo-roo,” called Husky Tusky, the Ele- 
phant. “What is all this I hear?” 

“It’s Stripey Tiger; he is after me,” replied Barker. 
“He thinks that I would make a nice mouthful, but 
he also thinks that Baby Elephant would make a 
whole meal; so take the opposite direction with your 
family, Husky, and don’t worry about me. I can 
manage Mr. Stripey, oho, oho!” 

So away went the saucy little deer, on and on from 
bush to bush, calhng and warning as he went. 


6o IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

Proudy Peacock flew in great alarm to the tallest 
palm tree, for Proudy knew that Stripey would find 
him much to his taste. Grunty, the Wild Pig, al- 
though he looked very fierce with his great tusks and 
stiff, bristly hair, realized that he was no match for 
the Terror of the Jungle, and so Grunty ran away as 
fast as his heavy body and short legs would let him. 

‘‘I hope Bulky Hippo wiU hear,’^ thought Barker. 
“I like Bulky. He is not very pretty, I must say, 
but, as with most everyone else, there is more good 
than bad in him. HeUo there. Bulky! Danger’s 
abroad, so get down to the bottom of the Yellow 
River as fast as you can!” 

‘‘Look out. Sunny Bear,” barked the little deer as 
he went along on his brave errand of mercy. “ Stripey 
is after me, and he is coming in this direction. Go 
the other way!” 

So Sunny shuffled off through the trees, only too 
glad to take Barker’s advice. 

Then came Stripey again along the Winding Way, 
creeping up, oh, so quietly. He saw the bush these 
warnings were given from — yes, the very bush, and, 
swoop, he slid into it, but he slid right out again, for 
Barker Deer wasn’t there. There wasn’t a single sign 
of him in that bush. Once more Barker Deer had 
been too quick for Mr. Tiger, and Stripey gnashed 
his teeth with growing rage. 

Such a scurrying and scrambling in every direction 
as there was in that Jungle you never saw, for by 


THE JUNGLE LIFE-SAVER 


6i 


this time everyone had heard Barker’s warning. 
Quiller Porcupine shook his quills and scampered 
away. Billie Mongoose, who isn’t a bit afraid of 
snakes, but draws the line at tigers, whisked his tail, 
gave Barker a wink with his bright little eye, and was 
gone. Even little Lizzie Lizard didn’t feel safe and 
slid quickly and quietly up the nearest tree. 

But brave little Barker Deer, still not afraid of the 
Terror of the Jungle, ran on and on in his errand of 
kindness until Stripey Tiger grumbled and roared 
more furiously than ever. 

Then, all of a sudden, Barker himself bounded off 
into the deepest depths of the forest. No trace of 
Barker Deer, the life-saver of the Jungle, was to be 
seen. Not even the echo of a mischievous bark lin- 
gered on the stillness of the night. Only disappointed 
Stripey Tiger was left, angrily lashing his hungry sides 
with his tail. 


WHAT FELL ON BILLIE MONGOOSE 


Biff! Down fell something big and round and hard 
on Billie Mongoose’s tail. Right out of the sky it 
came, as he stood under a palm tree thinking about 
a splendid plan for a Jungle party.' 

“Oiich!” said Billie, jumping sideways, “what in 
the world was that?” 

Then he began to run as fast as he could, and that’s 
very fast, you know, for Billie was frightened — yes, 
indeed, dreadfully frightened! 

“Now, if that had been a long, curly snake,” 
thought Billie, as he scurried away through the tall 
Jungle grass, “I shouldn’t have been a bit afraid. 
But that big thing coming out of the sky — well, you 
would have been scared too, wouldn’t you?” he asked, 
as he caught sight of Husky Tusky out for a morning 
walk. 

“What are you talking about, Billie?” said Husky. 
“Stop and get your breath.” 

“Why,” panted Billie, “something big and round 
and hard came down out of the sky and hit me on the 
tail.” 

“What was it?” inquired Husky Tusky. 

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Billie Mongoose, “I was 
so frightened that I just ran as fast as I could, to put 

62 


WHAT FELL ON BILLY MONGOOSE 63 

as much Jungle grass and as many palm trees as pos- 
sible between me and that dreadful thing.’’ 

“Well, what it was I don’t know either,” said 
Husky, “so let’s go and ask Grouchy Camel. He has 
his head in the air always and ought to be able to tell 
us about things that come down from the sky.” 

So they went along the Winding Way to where 
Grouchy Camel was grazing. 

“Hello,” said he in a much pleasanter tone than 
usual, “what’s the matter?” 

“Oh, something big and round and hard came down 
out of the sky and fell on my tail,” panted Billie, 
without even saying “Hello” to Grouchy. “Do you 
know what it was?” 

“No, and I don’t care either,” snarled Grouchy, as 
all his good humor had left him because Billie hadn’t 
said “Good morning.” “But you might go and ask 
Polly Parrot. She talks a lot and may know some- 
thing.” 

Then Billie Mongoose, Husky Tusky, and Grouchy 
Camel who didn’t really want to be left out, 
went along the Winding Way until they came to 
Polly Parrot sitting up in a tree and talking to 
herself. 

“Good morning,” screamed Polly in a very loud 
voice. “What’s all the party about?” 

“Why, something big and round and hard fell out 
of the sky right on my tail,” said Billie. 

“Yes, right on his tail,” said Husky and Grouchy 


64 IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

in the same breath, ‘‘and what do you suppose it 
was?” 

“Dear, dear, dear,” said Polly, “now let me see. 
I can’t think of anything, except the moon, that’s 
big and round and hard. At least I suppose the moon 
is hard; it looks so. But the moon would be shiny 
too. Did you say this thing was shiny?” 

“I didn’t stop long enough to see very well, but it 
didn’t look shiny at all,” replied Billie. 

“Well, well. I think we had better go and ask 
Bulky Hippo. He has a large head that must be very 
full of ideas,” said Polly. 

So Billie Mongoose, Husky Tusky, Grouchy Camel, 
and Polly Parrot all went along the Winding Way to 
the Yellow River, where Bulky Hippo was having his 
morning bath. 

“Goodness!” said Bulky, catching sight of Billie, 
Husky, Grouchy, and Polly standing on the bank. 
“Isn’t this dreadfully early for a call? I haven’t 
finished my bath yet!” 

“Oh, excuse us, please,” said all of them in chorus, 
“but this is a very serious matter.” 

“I’ll be right out, then,” said Bulky. 

“Oh, something big and round and hard came out 
of the sky and fell on my tail,” cried Billie Mongoose, 
scarcely waiting for Bulky Hippo to get ashore. 

“What was it?” asked Bulky between gasps, for 
it’s very hard climbing up a slippery, slidy bank when 
one is stout. 


WHAT FELL ON BILLY MONGOOSE 65 

^^Why, I don’t know,” said Billie. was so 
frightened I just ran.” 

“WeU, well, well; let’s think a minute. It couldn’t 
have been a star, could it? Did you say it was yellow 
and twinkling?” asked Bulky. 

“Oh, no, no,” cried Billie, Husky, Grouchy, and 
Polly in chorus, “it wasn’t like that at all.” 

“Well, well, weU,” said Bulky, trying to gain time, 
for he was a slow thinker. “Suppose we go and ask 
Lizzie Lizard. She’s a bright little thing.” 

So Billie Mongoose, Husky Tusky, Grouchy Camel, 
PoUy Parrot, and Bulky Hippo all went along by the 
Yellow River until they came to Lizzie Lizard, bask- 
ing in the sun on a nice warm piece of mud. 

“How are you all this morning?” asked Lizzie, 
smiling politely and looking very pretty in her bright 
green dress. “It’s a lovely morning, isn’t it?” 

“Oh, yes, but something big and round and hard 
came out of the sky this morning and hit me on the 
tail,” gasped BiUie, who was still frightened. 

“What a shame!” said Lizzie, gliding over to 
them. “I am very sorry. What do you think it 
was?” 

“Oh, I didn’t stop to see. I was so frightened that 
I ran just as fast as I could,” replied Billie. 

“Yes, indeed, as fast as he could,” said Husky, 
Grouchy, Polly, and Bulky all at the same time. 

Lizzie turned pale green with fright and sympathy, 
for she was very small and timid. 


66 


IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 


‘‘Do you think it could have been a cloud? Was it 
big and soft and white? asked Lizzie. 

“No, indeed. It wasn’t a bit soft, and it wasn’t 
white. It was big, though, big and round and hard,” 
answered Billie. 

“My, my — sounds dreadful! Let’s go and ask 
Stripey Tiger,” said Lizzie. “ He’s so strong and brave 
that if it is anything very fierce, he can fight it.” 

So Billy, Husky, Grouchy, Polly, Bulky, and Lizzie 
ran along the Winding Way, through the curly Jungle 
vines and the tall Jungle grasses, until Billie Mon- 
goose’s sharp little eye spied Stripey Tiger. The 
shadows of the grasses looked so much like the stripes 
on his coat that it was easy for him to hide. 

“How’s everybody today?” inquired Stripey Tiger 
cordially. He might not have been so friendly if he 
had met one of them alone, but he didn’t dare to be 
disagreeable to so many of the Jungle folk. “What’s 
up now?” 

“Why, something big and round and hard fell out 
of the sky on my tail this morning,” said Billie Mon- 
goose rather grandly, for by this time he was feeling 
somewhat important about his adventure. 

“What was it?” asked Stripey Tiger, trying to 
look interested. 

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Billie. “I was so fright- 
ened that I ran as fast as I could.” 

“ I haven’t any idea what it was,” said Stripey, “but 
anyway, it was very silly for you to run.” 



68 IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

Stripey hadn’t eaten his breakfast and cotddn’t 
keep his mind on anything except how hungry he was. 
So he said, ‘‘Let’s go to old Mother Bat. She’s the 
wisest person in all the Jungle, and if we can wake 
her up she will tell us what to do.” 

Then Billie Mongoose, Husky Tusky, Grouchy 
Camel, PoUy Parrot, Bulky Hippo, Lizzie Lizard, and 
Stripey Tiger all went along to where old Mother Bat 
hung peacefully from the limb of a tree, sound asleep 
and wrapped up in her gray cloak. Mother Bat was 
having a nice nap and hated to be disturbed, for she 
stays awake every night. 

But Billie Mongoose cried, “Oh, good Mother Bat, 
please wake up! We are almost distracted. Some- 
thing big and round and hard feU from the sky this 
morning right on my tail, and can’t you tell us what it 
was? You are wise and know almost everything.” 

At this. Mother Bat opened one eye, for she was 
very much pleased to be thought wise. 

“I don’t know what it was,” she answered, “but 
why don’t you go back to where it fell, you silly 
folks, and find out for yourselves? I can’t bother 
with such stupid people, and besides I’m very, very 
sleepy.” 

With that she popped her head under her wing and 
was soon snoring. 

Then the animals looked at each other and said in 
one breath: “That’s a good idea!” So they started 
back along the Winding Way, past the Yellow River, 


WHAT FELL ON BILLY MONGOOSE 69 

through the tall Jungle grass and the thick Jungle 
vines, until Billie said, ‘‘Here is where it aU happened, 
under this tall palm tree!'' 

Just then they heard a chuckle and looked up. 
What do you suppose they saw? There in the branches 
of the tall palm tree, which looks like a huge feather 
duster, sat Jacky Monk. 

“Tee-hee-hee," chuckled Jacky, “you are a funny 
lot! I threw a cocoanut down on Billie this morning, 
simply to see what he would do, but I never dreamed 
that it would make him bring the whole Jungle here!'’ 

Well, that made aU the animals look very foolish 
and ashamed, especially Billie Mongoose, who at once 
realized that if he had faced the thing he feared, in- 
stead of running away, he would have found that it 
was something very harmless and good. 

Then kind little Lizzie Lizard wanted to make every- 
one feel happy, so she said brightly: “Now that we 
are all here together, let's have a party. I was in- 
tending to give one anyway, and this has saved the 
bother of invitations." 

At that they all felt much relieved, and soon were 
dancing, eating cocoanuts, and having a happy time. 


WITS WIN 


Up in the northern part of Wyoming, spring was 
well under way. The trees in the Deep Woods were 
full of fresh young leaves, and the Chattering Brook 
flowed gaily, free from any hint of ice or snow. Last 
year's grass still clung to the ground, but, promising 
better things, here and there were a few new green 
blades. 

Mrs. Elk, or Mother Doe as she is called, was out 
for a stroll with a large party of her friends. Each 
mother had her pretty little fawn beside her. They 
were all walking along, cropping the tender young 
leaves from the trees overhead and looking for a good 
place in which to spend the night. Big, Bright Mr. 
Sun was already dropping low in the sky, and the 
little purple shadows were just waiting to gather for 
their twilight frolic. 

That great herd of mothers and children looked like 
a deer tea party. Not a father elk was to be seen. 
In the spring all the father elks go away. Up in the 
mountains they gather to wait for their new antlers to 
grow, for in March their splendid great branching 
horns drop off, and this makes them feel so helpless 
that they go away by themselves, and there they stay 
until August, when a new set of antlers is fully grown. 

70 


WITS WIN 


71 


It doesn^t seem very brave or kind to leave Mother 
Doe and Fawny Deer alone so long, does it? When 
he is fully armed, there is no animal braver than a 
father elk. He’s really a great fighter, and many are 
the battles waged between two elks during the winter 
when they are in full fighting trim. But now it was 
spring, and the mothers with their baby deer were 
alone, enjoying themselves very much, too, as they 
browsed through the Deep Woods. 

‘‘Come, Fawny Deer,” called Mother Doe to one 
little baby who had wandered away a bit. “Keep 
close to the herd.” 

But Mother Doe didn’t really feel frightened. Her 
large, quick ears heard no hostile sounds, and her keen, 
sensitive nose smelled no danger near. She couldn’t 
smell any danger, because the wind was blowing away 
from her, but danger was near, dreadfully near. Sly 
Foot, the Mountain Lion, was waiting for Mother 
Doe. He was stretched out on the limb of a tree, 
lying flat and clinging very close, ready to drop down 
on Mother Doe as she passed under the tree. 

The mountain lion is the only lion that is found in 
North America. He is not so large, nor so handsome 
as his African brother, as he has no fine mane to 
boast of; nor is he so fierce. Sly Foot fears man, but 
he is a great enemy of all the wild folk of the mountain 
and the wood, especially the deer. 

As he waited for Mother Doe he kept very still 
indeed, for Mother Doe’s ears are sharp. Not a sound 


72 IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

came from Sly Foot, not even the lowest growl, nor a 
movement either, except the curling in and out of his 
sharp claws. In and out, in and out he drew them, in 
his excitement and eagerness, and his eyes were like 
flame. 

Slowly along the lone trail came the herd of pretty 
does and fawns, with Mother Doe at the head. She 
was sniffing and snuffing, and listening and cocking 
her ears this way and that, as she stopped now and 
then to make sure that all was safe. 

When she was right under Sly Foot’s tree, he gath- 
ered himself together, as you have seen cats do before 
a spring, and down he dropped with a thud, right on 
Mother Doe’s back. 

The force of that terrible blow made poor Mother 
Doe stagger and fall to her knees, but she stayed there 
only an instant. She was so dreadfully frightened that 
she sprang into the air and bounded off through the 
woods. Sly Foot was clinging to her back and was 
hurting her soft skin with his sharp claws, but she 
thought of Fawny Deer who needed her, and that 
gave her strength. 

The herd of terrified deer went fleeing before her in 
every direction, and all the other little wild folks of 
the Deep Woods were hurrying and scurrying away 
from Mother Doe and her rider. Across the lone trail 
dashed Mollie Cottontail, the little rabbit, and Leaper, 
the big gray hare. Jimmy Frisky, the squirrel, forgot 
his saucy scolding, and plop! went Busy Beaver down 


WITS WIN 


73 


into the Chattering Brook. Burrow Badger ran 
quickly into his hole in the ground, and Furry Fox 
slunk away as fast as his legs could carry him. 

“Hoo-hoo, waugh-hoo,^’ called Horny, the great 
horned owl, from high in the trees. 

He alone of aU the wood folk was not afraid. In- 
stead, he was watching with interest, for he hoped to 
share Sly Foot’s supper with him. 

Mother Doe was losing strength. Something must 
be done quickly. Sly Foot was pushing his claws 
deeper and deeper into Mother Doe’s back as she tore 
along, and, of course, she could not help giving little 
bleats of pain. Yes, her legs were growing weaker, 
but her wits weren’t. She was thinking very hard all 
through her suffering, when suddenly an idea full of 
hope came to her. 

Over against a great tree trunk at the side of the 
trail, she plunged. Up against another and then 
another rough tree of the dear, friendly forest, she 
stumbled and staggered. She was trying to brush Sly 
Foot off, but he only rumbled and grumbled deep 
down in his throat, and clung the closer. 

Hope seemed almost gone, but not quite, for hope 
never entirely vanishes. Then what do you suppose 
poor, weary Mother Doe saw? Right across the 
lone trail in front of her was a fallen tree. It was 
resting a few feet above the ground, held up by 
its great mass of branches, as you have often seen 
trees in the woods. Another idea came to Mother 


74 IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

Doe. Her need was great, and so her wits were 
sharp. 

“This is the very last thing I can think of,’’ said 
she to herself. “It simply must work, if I can only 
gather strength enough to do it.” 

Then with a sudden rush she ran toward the fallen 
tree, crouched low, gave a quick dash under the great 
trunk, and scraped Sly Foot, the mountain lion, off 
her back. 

Sly Foot, who thought himself very clever, had been 
outwitted this time by gentle Mother Doe. There was 
simply nothing for him to do but to let go and drop 
to the ground when Mother Doe played that little 
trick. As he gave a shrill cry of anger, he saw 
Mother Doe bound away into the Deep Woods to 
join the herd. Hungry, grumbly Sly Foot was left 
alone, lashing his tail. 


SUNNY BEAR GOES COASTING 


Sunny Bear was enjoying himself; there was no 
doubt about that. His long, slender tongue, which he 
could coil and twist in the most curious fashion, was 
darting in and out of a wild bees’ nest in the old hol- 
low tree, and Sunny was smacking his lips with de- 
light. There is nothing that a bear loves so much as 
honey, and Sunny Bear, with his long tongue, is bet- 
ter fitted to get it than any others of the bear family. 

There was another reason why Sunny Bear was so 
happy. The day was hot and bright, for warm days 
do come even up in the high mountains of India, 
where this little bear lives. He loves to bask in the 
sunshine. That is the reason why he is called the 
sun bear. 

So when Sunny had eaten all he could hold of the 
delicious honey, which means he had eaten every bit 
in the nest, he strolled out of the shade, and gazed 
around. He was looking for a cozy warm place in 
which to lie a while and doze. 

“Over there is a splendid flat rock,” said Sunny 
Bear to himself.. “Big, Bright Mr. Sun has been smil- 
ing at it so long that it will be a jolly hot place for a 
nap. Um-m-m, this is nice,” he said drowsily. 

Very pretty he looked, lying there with the little 

75 


76 IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

white crescent under his chin and his glossy black 
hair shining like jet in the sunshine. 

But Sunny Bear’s nap didn’t last long. He awoke 
with a start at a terrible sound. Not very far away 
he heard the baying of a dog. Louder and louder it 
grew, and nearer and nearer it came, until all at once 
he saw the dog and a strange two-legged creature 
besides, bounding through the thicket toward him. 

Now Sunny had never seen a man, but there was 
something which told him that this was no longer a 
safe place for bears. His gentle little heart pounded 
so hard that he couldn’t think. He didn’t want to 
hurt anyone himself, but maybe not everybody felt 
that way. It would probably be wise for him to go 
away. So off trundled Sunny Bear at his best walking 
speed. Even this wasn’t fast enough, for the dog and 
the man began to gain on him. 

‘H’ll climb a tree, that’s what I’ll do,” grunted 
Sunny. “Climbing is as easy as walking for me, and 
that horrid dog can’t follow me then, I know.” So up 
the nearest tree he scrambled and gave a great sigh of 
relief as he seated himself in the crotch of its friendly 
branches. 

“What business have they up in these mountains of 
mine, anyway? The Himalayas belong to us hill folk 
and nobody else,” thought Sunny Bear, beginning to 
feel resentful, now that he was fairly safe. “But here 
they come again! I never saw anything hke the way 
they keep after a fellow. I don’t feel at all sure that 




V/ f 

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M x9 < 

wKt jSk^i 


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Dov/n the Hillside Rolled Sunny Bear 


77 


78 IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

that odd two-legged creature can^t climb trees either. 
Dear, dear; I guess there is nothing to do but to run.’’ 

Little black Sunny Bear slipped quietly down on the 
opposite side of the tree. Bears are clumsy and awk- 
ward when they walk, but swift at running. This 
time Sunny Bear broke into a gallop. Right on to- 
wards a very steep hillside he went. Down, down 
dropped the hill, almost as straight as a wall, steep 
and rocky enough to make a man stop and perhaps 
turn back. But do you think that ragged cliff stopped 
Sunny Bear? Not a bit of it. He knew that hill 
was there, and he was heading for it all the time. 

When this funny little bear reached the top, he 
waited just one second to look over at the jagged 
rough rocks below, then he wrapped himself up into a 
big, furry ball and started to roll. Down, down the 
hillside he rolled, bumping into rocks and bouncing off 
from them, scraping into thorny bushes and out again. 
Faster and faster and faster rolled Sunny Bear 
bounding along towards the bottom, where the gentle 
green valley stretched beyond. 

When Sunny was at the end of this mad toboggan 
slide down the steep, steep hill, he came to a full stop, 
unrolled himself, shook his glossy coat, took a cool, 
saucy look at the hunter, far up at the top of the 
rough, rough hill, and then trotted away over the 
gentle green valley, chuckling and grunting with glee. 


JUNGLE BABIES 


are going to a party today/’ called Mother 
Husky Tusky to Baby Elephant one afternoon. 
‘^Come and have your bath right away, my dear.” 

‘^Oh, goody, goody,” said Baby Elephant, throwing 
up his little trunk and running to Mother Husky 
Tusky as fast as his chubby legs could carry him. 
“I just love parties, and I like baths too. I am ready 
for one this minute.” 

So Mother Husky Tusky drew water up into her 
trunk from the Deep Pool near by, and threw the cool 
stream all over Baby Elephant’s tiny gray back. Then 
she bathed her own rough, tough back in the same way. 

When, a little later, big, bright Mr. Sun had 
dropped almost to the place where the tall trees 
meet the sky. Mother Husky Tusky and Baby 
Elephant started off towards the Yellow River. 

Mrs. Rosie Flamingo was giving a birthday party 
for her young family of pretty little pink birds. 
Flamingos always build their nests close to the water, 
because they like fish to eat better than anything 
else. Their long legs and necks make it very easy for 
them to stand in the river and catch the fish. 

Now Mrs. Flamingo lived on the other side of the 
Yellow River, so when Mother Husky Tusky and 

79 


8o IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

Baby Elephant reached the bank, Baby thought, of 
course, he could just climb up on Mother’s back and 
ride across as usual. But Mother Husky Tusky said, 
‘‘No, son, you must learn to swim sometime. Plunge 
right in with me and don’t be afraid. Mother will 
guide you.” So she did, very gently, with her long 
trunk. She made fond little sounds all the time to 
encourage the chubby, floundering baby until, before 
he knew it, they were on the other side, scrambling 
up the slippery bank. 

There was Mrs. Flamingo waiting to greet them. 
She was very stately and handsome, sitting on her 
high nest, which looked like a mud chimney about two 
feet tall. Even then Mrs. Flamingo’s long legs 
stretched out behind for some distance. 

“How do you do, Mrs. Husky Tusky,” said she, 
rising, “and how is Baby Elephant today? These are 
my children,” she called with a proud ring in her 
voice. “They are not out of the nest yet, to be sure, 
but I thought it would be nice to celebrate their birth- 
day just the same. Yes, they are a week old today! 
Almost all our neighbors are here, and I think your 
little boy will find plenty of playmates.” 

“Oh, I know he will,” said Mother Husky Tusky. 
“Run and play with Baby Camel, dear. There he is 
over there with his mother.” 

“How do you do, Mrs. Grouchy?” trumpeted 
Mother Elephant pleasantly. 

But Baby Camel wouldn’t leave his mother a 


JUNGLE BABIES 8i 

minute. Nothing could induce- him to move his 
heavy little body, perched on his high, telegraph- 
pole legs, from Mrs. Grouchy Camel’s side. That 
baby just stayed right there and kissed his mother’s 
soft nose all the time. 

‘‘It’s of no use to try to make him play. I wonder 
if those cubs have any fun in them,” said Baby Ele- 
phant, glancing over at the little lions. 

There was Mrs. Lion with her soft, pudgy children 
— Tawny, Spotty, and Fuzzy. They looked like big 
puppies, all of a reddish gold color with faint black 
spots on their coats. These spots fade away when 
the cubs grow to be six months old. Mother Lion 
was trying to give Tawny a bath, but he didn’t like 
it at all. No indeed, he didn’t want to waste time 
that way, when brother and sister were having so 
much fun. Spotty and Fuzzy were fighting a make- 
believe battle, so that some day, when they grew up, 
they would know how to fight in earnest. Over and 
over they rolled, and wrestled, and tumbled, growling 
and mewing, but never hurting each other. 

“Please, mamma; I don’t want to be clean,” 
wailed Tawny. But Mother Lion simply boxed his 
ear, turned him over, and went on washing his other 
side with her long, rough tongue. 

Mrs. Bulky Hippo and the two little Bulkys were 
having a lark in the water. The Yellow River just 
suited them. No game on land could be as much fun 
as climbing up on mother’s back and splashing off 


82 


IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

again into the water. They were babies, not in size, 
for they weighed more than forty pounds, but in age. 
These two funny little things looked like fat pink pigs 
with a stripe of slate gray on their backs; and oh, 
such big mouths! It seemed as if they were splitting 
in two when the babies opened their mouths to bite 
each other in play. Some day the little Hippos 
would lose their pinkness and turn entirely gray but 
that terrible mouth would always be theirs, and very 
handy it would be, too, when they wanted to eat 
twelve bushels of sugar cane at one meal. 

‘‘Oh, mother, what’s that awful noise,” cried Baby 
Hippo, scrambling up on Mother Bulky’s broad back. 

“Goodness gracious; I don’t know, dear,” said she, 
turning one little eye toward the river bank. “It’s 
probably one of Sally Sloth Bear’s children. They do 
more crying than all the rest of the animal folks put 
together.” 

“Why, Boxer Bear,” cried Mother Sloth Bear and 
Sister Betty, running up to Boxer’s side, “whatever 
is the matter?” 

“ Boo-hoo-hoo, ” howled Boxer Bear bitterly. “ Some- 
body hurt my ear.” 

“Oh, you poor little thing,” cried Mother Bear 
and Sister Betty together. “What a perfect shame!” 
Then Mother Bear and Betty began to cry too, from 
sympathy. 

“I know who did it,” wailed Boxer. “It was Betty 
Bear. She bit my ear. Boo-hoo!” 


JUNGLE BABIES 83 

I didn’t either, Boxer Bear. You are fibbing,” cried 
Betty stoutly. 

Then the two little bears began to fight, slap, and 
cufi each other until both were crying louder than ever, 
for that is the very silly way in which Sloth Bears 
really do act sometimes. 

Mother Bear’s patience was about gone. She was 
getting more ashamed every minute. Why, everyone 
at the party was looking at her babies and thinking 
what bad little things they were! 

“You naughty children,” she said in a low growl. 
“I am all out of patience with you.” 

Just then she gave each of them such a hard box on 
the ear that they rolled over and over in opposite 
directions. They were so surprised that they couldn’t 
cry, for Mother Bear was always gentle and kind. 
What did this mean? When Betty and Boxer picked 
themselves up, they began to realize how naughty and 
ill-mannered they had been. Betty looked shyly at 
Boxer and grunted: “I’m sorry,” and Boxer came 
over and gave Betty a good hug. Now Mother Bear 
was so pleased and happy again that she would have 
smiled if animals could smile. 

Would you believe that there is only one animal 
that can smile? Yes, there is just one that can both 
smile and laugh 1 It’s the chimpanzee. And Mother 
Chimpanzee was chucking now. Her voice was so low 
that it sounded like laughing in a whisper. But she 
was most amused. You would have been amused, too, 


84 IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

if you could have seen the jolly coasting party she 
was watching. Of course, it was warm weather — it 
always is in the Jungle; but the Baby Baboons were 
coasting just the same. They were sliding down hill on 
a place covered with slippery grass. Down they went, 
rolling over, chattering, and carrying on like boys and 
girls out at play. Such ugly little things they were 
too, with dog-shaped heads and ridges of bright 
color on their faces. But baby ^baboons are good- 
natured and full of fun, and that is all that really 
counts. 

Mother Baboon watched the frolics of her funny 
little family with fond affection. Beside her stood 
Mrs. Chimpanzee, who carried in her arms the droll- 
est little baby you ever saw, just the cutest, most 
sweet-tempered little mite in the whole Jungle. But 
he was so much like one of our very own babies that 
you would almost hate to look at him. His head was 
quite large with long hair on it and his face was 
smooth and light-colored. 

‘HsnT he a darling?’’ chattered Mrs. Baboon to 
proud Mother Chimpanzee as she tickled the baby’s 
little roly-poly sides with her long finger. Then that 
funny little monkey baby did exactly the same thing 
every other baby does when he is tickled. He kicked 
and chuckled and squirmed, and his hazel eyes twin- 
kled with fun. Then Bouncer Baboon crept up and 
gave his tail a pull, but even that didn’t spoil Baby 
Chimpanzee’s good nature. Mrs. Baboon pinched 


JUNGLE BABIES 


85 

Bouncer^s ear for it though, but very gently, as every- 
one was feeling happy and she knew it was done only 
in fun. 

“Why, how do you do, Mrs. Kangaroo? I haven’t 
seen you before,” cried Mother Chimpanzee. “Where 
is your little Joey?” 

“Oh, he has been playing about, but he grew tired, 
and I have just put him in my pocket to rest,” 
replied Mrs. Kangaroo. 

Baby kangaroos are very tiny when they are bom, 
only about an inch long. You can hardly believe it 
when you see their five-foot tall mother. So a mother 
kangaroo carries these mites around in a pouch on the 
front of her body for several months. There they stay, 
all snug and warm, until they grow larger and begin to 
be curious about the outside world. Then occasionally 
up pops a head, and finally they venture outside to 
play for a little while on the ground. But for a long 
time after a baby kangaroo is able to take care of 
himself he runs back to mother’s pocket in case of 
danger. 

“Yes, Joey was very tired,” said Mother Kangaroo. 

“So was Baby Elephant,” said Mrs. Husky Tusky 
in a hushed voice. “He has been asleep for some 
time, and I have been brushing the flies away from 
him with a wisp of straw.” 

She swayed from side to side with pride and joy as 
she looked at her sleeping baby and stroked his chubby 
little gray body with her trunk. 


86 


IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 


^‘Well, Baby Bolita has had a long nap too, and I 
can’t wake him up. He just won’t unroll,” cried 
Annie Armadillo, looking with a hopeless air at her 
own infant. 

‘‘Bolita” means “little ball,” and that is what the 
people of South America call the armadillo, because 
he can roll up perfectly round, and nothing can get 
inside his tough shell. There Baby Bolita lay, all 
dressed in armor like his mother’s, only it hadn’t 
grown hard, but was still as soft as heavy paper. He 
simply wouldn’t unroll. 

“I think I’ll roll him on home,” said Annie Arma- 
dillo with a sigh. “He is such a sound sleeper.” 

“That’s a very good idea,” said Mrs. Bulky Hippo. 
“It’s time everybody was going anyway. This has 
been a happy party, Mrs. Flamingo. We have all 
had a lovely time.” 

“I’m sure the children have enjoyed themselves 
very much,” said Mrs. Chimpanzee smiling. “I hope 
your little birdlings will keep very well.” 

“Come, Baby Elephant,” said Mother Husky 
Tusky, “wake up. It’s time to go home! Good-bye, 
Mrs. Flamingo. Come and see us soon.” 

When Baby Elephant swung slowly down towards 
the Yellow River beside Mother Husky Tusky, the 
soft little Night Wind heard her say: “You may ride 
home on mother’s back, dear; you were a good little 
boy today.” 


A WILD GOOSE CHASE 


Slow Wings, the little wild goose, was lagging again. 
It seemed as if he were always behind. But he 
couldn’t help it; he just couldn’t keep up. There 
were the others going ahead, and he was falling back. 
Poor little Slow Wings! He was so dreadfully tired 
that he thought he should drop. How good that 
friendly green country did look. He didn’t see the 
use of these long, long journeys anyway, thousands 
and thousands of miles through the air. He had been 
very happy and comfortable down in Texas where his 
family spent the winter. What if April had come? 
There was no reason for moving that he could see. 

But the gander, who led the flock, knew better. 
Daddy Gander was wise and very old for a bird — 
almost thirty years. He knew that soon it would be 
hot in the South; that the cool lakes and marshes of 
Canada were waiting for him and his flock; that 
there they would build their nests and take care of 
the soft, newly-hatched goslings until they were strong 
enough to come back with the flock in October. 

So, proudly he led at the head of the great V- 
shaped formation in which they flew. Like a living 
wedge it was — fluttering, flapping, and honking high 
in the air. ‘‘Gaggle-gaggle-gaggle, gaggle-gaggle,” 
87 


88 IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

cried the wild geese as they went winging their way 
at nearly a hundred miles an hour. 

Each bird trusted Daddy Gander. He knew the 
route to take and the very lake they were going to, 
with its cool, marshy banks and abundance of food. 
Straight and true, as if he carried a chart and compass, 
he sped, and they trusted him. 

But a greater power than Daddy Gander was guid- 
ing them. It was God who gave their leader his un- 
failing instinct. The same wonderful Power who guides 
us in all we do carried them safely on their long, long 
journey through the air. 

The clear blue day was wearing away toward eve- 
ning. Goodnight,’’ smiled big, bright Mr. Sun, as he 
dropped behind the quiet hills which looked down on 
Frankie Jones’ snug little home in the valley. 

How peaceful and sweet it all seemed down there: 
the great barns on one side of the road, where horses 
and cattle were safely housed for the night; the 
chicken yard with its wire fence and cozy little wooden 
shelter for the pretty white chickens roosting inside 
with their heads tucked under their wings; and close 
by the shiny little pond. 

'‘Just the place for geese,” thought Slow Wings 
wistfully. 

On the other side of the road was the long, rambling 
farmhouse. In the doorway stood a boy. "Oh, look, 
look. Father!” cried he, "the wild geese are going over; 
it’s the end of winter.” 


A WILD GOOSE CHASE 89 

don^t like little boys very well,” said Slow Wings 
to himself, “but I am so tired I don’t believe I have 
strength enough to hiss at one. Goodness me! What 
is that?” he exclaimed, for with a swoop, a swish, and 
a rush the whole great flock ahead of him was settling 
down into the shiny little pond. On the water, on 
the banks, in the coarse marsh grass, everywhere they 
were fluttering, flapping, and honking. Slow Wings, 
with a sigh of relief, dropped too, yes, dropped down 
anywhere. It didn’t matter to him where he was. 
Just to be on the ground, in order to fold his poor, 
tired wings and close his eyes for a minute, was 
enough. 

Perhaps it was more than a minute, but it didn’t 
seem any time at all when whirr-blurr-blurr came the 
sound of many wings, and the air was again filled with 
great flying birds. 

“They’re going,” cried Slow Wings, “going without 
me. Oh, wait a minute, wait ! ” As hard as he could, 
he tried to flap his weary wings. Feebly he rose from 
the ground, then settled back again. Once or twice he 
almost got under way, but dropped exhausted. “Oh, 
dear, I shall never catch up with them now,” he 
thought in despair, “never in the world! I am such 
a slowpoke. What shall I do! I just can’t go on. 
What will become of me?” 

“ Gaggle-gaggle-gaggle, gaggle-gaggle-gaggle,” sounded 
faintly on the soft night air. The cool bright moon 
was beginning to peep over the quiet hills, and the 


90 


IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 


little stars winked cheerfully at Slow Wings. Just 
then the same boy came to the doorway of the house. 

“Oh, Father, there's a poor little wild goose in the 
chicken yard," he cried. “What can we do with him? 
I do wish he would stay!" 

Slow Wings' little heart was going thump, thump, 
with weariness and fear. He had never been so fright- 
ened and unhappy in his life, no never! Yet this 
little boy's voice sounded kind, and when Farmer 
Jones came out and said: “Let's put him in the hen- 
house, Frankie," his voice sounded kind too. 

“ Maybe I have been mistaken about human beings," 
thought Slow Wings. “Perhaps some of them are 
good, after all. Well, all I can do is to hope that I 
have fallen among the good kind. Now, what's going 
to happen? They are coming towards me. I guess it 
is time for me to be leaving." 

Slow Wings hopped painfully along, but was too 
tired to make much headway. Frankie and his father 
drew nearer and nearer. Then all at once the little 
wild goose found himself pushed into that henhouse, 
right in with the sleeping chickens, and the door had 
been quickly shut so that he couldn't get out. 

“Oh, I don't care," said Slow Wings to himself. 
“I'm so sleepy I couldn't keep awake if the sky were 
falling." So he tucked his head under his weary little 
wing, and was soon fast asleep. 

When Slow Wings opened his eyes the next morn- 
ing, the door of the henhouse had been pushed back. 


A WILD GOOSE CHASE 


91 


and the sun was shining gaily. In front of the door 
was a pile of golden cornmeal, and all the white chick- 
ens were out in the yard, clustered about it. That 
cornmeal caught Slow Wings’ eye at once. Goodness, 
he was hungry. He had never been so hungry in his 
life before. could eat every bit of that meal my- 
self,” thought he, ‘‘but I might have trouble out 
there. As I am a stranger, I think I had better be 
polite.” So he stepped out and pecked daintily at 
the meal, paying no attention to the white chickens. 

“This stranger seems quite nice,” one white chicken 
called to another. “He is modest and quiet.” 

“Let’s try to make him feel at home,” returned the 
other. 

Slow Wings was greatly surprised when one of them 
gave him a fresh, wiggly worm, newly scratched up. 
He feebly honked his gratitude, and began to feel 
almost comfortable and contented. “After all, this 
isn’t such a bad place for a rest,” thought he, with 
another peck at the cornmeal. 

Just then Farmer Jones and Frankie came out of 
the house, and, before Slow Wings knew it, he was in 
Frankie’s arms. My, but that was a shock! It was 
the worst fright he had ever had. At first he strug- 
gled and struggled to get away, but soon he quieted 
down. Nothing dreadful occurred. What good did 
it do to make a fuss? 

Nothing very important happened; at least Slow 
Wings didn’t find out until later the real importance 


92 IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

of what had taken place. Farmer Jones just snipped 
a wee bit from each of the little brown wings with a 
sharp tool he had in his hands. It didn’t hurt at all. 
But when Slow Wings was down on the ground again 
and wanted to fly around the yard in order to see if 
he were rested enough to go on with his journey, he 
couldn’t make his wings work. They wouldn’t lift 
him up into the air at all. Two or three times he 
tried, but with no success. 

“Oh, well, no wonder they are useless after flying 
so steadily for days,” said he to himself. “There’s 
no hurry anyway. I will just wait.” Then he popped 
another nice fat worm into his mouth and took 
another nibble of cornmeal. 

So the bright warm days of summer went drifting 
by, and Slow Wings was still unable to fly. He didn’t 
mind, for he was having a wonderful time and getting 
very plump and lazy. Only once in a long, long while 
now did he think of the great flock and of wise old 
Daddy Gander, and of the exciting travels and adven- 
tures under his guidance. 

But one morning Slow Wings awoke to sniff a crisp 
tang in the chilly air. Mischievous Jack Frost had 
paid a visit to the garden and the grass, leaving a 
beautiful white film over everything. Slow Wings, 
heart beat harder, and his blood flowed faster. Some- 
thing stirred within him, something he couldn’t con- 
trol. He wanted to be off on the wing, to see new 
places, to settle on new ponds and new fields. The 


A WILD GOOSE CHASE 


93 

old ones were tame. Tame, that was it! Life as he 
was living it was tame. “I am wild,” thought he with 
a joyful thrill. want my liberty!” 

Just then, away up in the sky, over the house and 
the farm came floating through the air little black 
specks against the blue. Little black specks they 
seemed to be, but moving in the form of a huge V — 
the V which Slow Wings remembered so well and — 
‘‘gaggle-gaggle-gaggle, gaggle-gaggle-gaggle,” the cries 
of wild geese, sounded faintly on the breeze. 

“Honk-honk-honk,” answered Slow Wings with a 
great throb of joy. Spreading his wings, up, up on 
the morning air he rose and flew, straight and true as 
an arrow, toward the great living V. 

But when, a minute later, Frankie came to the 
cottage doorway and missed the pretty black head 
and brown back of the little wild goose, he felt just 
like crying. He didn’t want to lose timid Slow Wings 
after all the months that had been spent to make 
friends with him. 

Then faintly from afar off came the cry of wild 
geese, and high, high up near the sun Frankie saw the 
great flock going over again to its winter home in the 
warm South. Then he knew that the little clipped 
wings had grown and carried Slow Wings back to his 
own kind, back to the natural, free life which should 
be his. 

Liberty is the right of all the beasts of the field and 
the birds of the air. So Frankie was glad. 


THE TALE OF A TAIL 


When Bobby Cat found himself in America, after 
a long, long voyage on a ship which went up and 
down and round and round, so that Bobby was very 
uncomfortable, he was most astonished. 

Do you think it was the tall buildings, the noisy 
street, and the funny white people that made him 
most astonished? No, indeed; it was the long-tailed 
cats — cats with beautiful, long, sweeping, waving 
tails, every one of them! There wasn’t a single cat 
with a short, stubby tail like his. 

You see, Bobby was born in Japan, where cats don’t 
have tails, and so he had never missed one. But now 
that he had come to America with Matey Burnet, 
who used to live in India, Bobby began to wish he 
had a tail too. 

His new friends, the American cats, never made fun 
of him nor slighted him in any way, but pretty soon 
they discovered that Bobby wouldn’t play. He just 
stayed under a tree all day long, where the shadows 
fell in stripes and blotches. He was always looking 
back to watch the shadows fall behind him. 

You can’t imagine why he did this? Well, you see 
sometimes a very long shadow would stretch out be- 
hind Bobby and make him look as if he had a tail, 

94 


THE TALE OF A TAIL 


95 


and then he would be very proud and happy for a 
whole day. But, of course, this couldn’t last. He 
had to go out into the sunshine once in a while, which 
only made him sadder than ever. 

One day Bobby and Tabby were chasing a mouse 
through the screen door which Matey had left open. 
When Bobby got to the mouse and had caught it, he 
glanced around to tell Tabby about his good luck, but 
found that he was alone. Just then he heard a cry 
and looked back again. There was Tabby, caught in 
the door by her long, beautiful tail. Bobby dropped 
the mouse and rushed back, hurling his whole weight 
against the door, which opened a wee bit and set 
free Tabby. 

As Bobby watched poor Tabby, who was licking 
her tail to make it well, he realized his good fortune 
in having no tail at all. 

^Ht’s very foolish to be vain and look for happiness 
in Shadowland,” said Bobby to himself. ‘^Only real 
things matter, like being generous, telling the truth, 
and making the best of what you are.” 


MONKEYSHINES 


^‘Ouch/’ grunted crusty old Grandpa Baboon, 
jumping and almost losing his balance. ^^What in the 
world was that? Somebody pulled my tail! Oh, you 
impudent young rascal, what business have you playing 
tricks on your old grandfather, I’d like to know?” 
And Grandfather Baboon grinned good-naturedly at 
little Babbie Baboon, who sat chattering in high glee 
on the branch below him. 

Come here, child, and I’ll tell you something you’ll 
like to hear,” said he in a mild voice. 

If you could see him, you wouldn’t believe that 
such a dreadful looking old fellow could be so tender 
and kind. Grandfather Baboon belonged to the 
African family of apes, called Mandrills, which are the 
ugliest monkeys in the world. They have dog-shaped 
heads and ridges of light blue with purple stripes on 
their faces. The tips of their noses are bright, bright 
red, as if these monkeys had been out on a cold 
winter morning. 

But even the crossest old ape can’t be unkind to a 
dear little, joker like Babbie Baboon. So back came 
Babbie and seated herself close to Grandpa Baboon, 
who put his great, long hairy arm about her. 

“Now please tell me something nice,” she chattered 
gaily. 


96 


MONKEYSHINES 


97 


“Well/^ said Grandfather Baboon, ‘Hhis story 
doesn’t begin with ^Once upon a time’ or ‘Sometime 
a long way off,’ but it starts with ‘Right now,’ for 
this very day there is going to be a meeting of all the 
monkeys in the world, right here in the Deep Dark 
Woods. The monkeys will tell how they live and do 
things in their native countries, and then perhaps 
they will play some games and have a feast. But we 
are all going to see if we can learn something from 
one another.” 

“Oh, won’t that be fun?” chirped Babbie, clapping 
her hands. Monkeys have hands — yes, four of them, 
but no feet like ours, because they live almost entirely 
in the trees, and hands are more useful in clinging to 
the branches. 

“Look, look, grandfather, I believe they are coming 
already,” cried Babbie. 

“Right you are. Babbie,” said Grandfather Baboon. 
“Your bright little eyes can see better than mine. 
Here come all our African neighbors, I should say. 
Of course, it will take those from far countries longer 
to get here. You had better call mamma and papa, 
dear. It looks as if we should have a woods full very 
soon.” 

So they did, for monkeys from all the tropical 
lands of the world began to crowd in, swinging and 
leaping and springing from branch to branch and 
tree to tree, until the Deep Dark Woods was no 
longer a place of quiet and peace. It was ringing 


98 IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

with merry shouts and screams and chattering. 
Louder and louder grew the hubbub, until Grand- 
father Baboon was at his wits’ end to know how he 
could bring the meeting to order. 

'‘Perhaps if I pound on this log with a stick, it 
will draw their attention,” said Mr. Chimpanzee, 
who was always ready to help. "You know I can 
do that pretty well, and I enjoy it too.” So Mr. 
Chimpanzee rapped loudly a great many times on a 
hoUow log, and almost at once there was stillness. 
Monkeys are very curious; so they all stopped their 
chatter to find out what that strange noise was. 
Then up spoke Grandfather Baboon: 

"Neighbors and friends from far countries, you are 
most welcome to the Deep Woods. We thought it 
would be pleasant for the members of the great 
monkey family to gather together, and I am delighted 
to see so many here. Perhaps we may teach one 
another some useful ways of living different from our 
own.” 

"Here, here; I like that idea,” cried Mr. Chimpan- 
zee, standing up to his full height, and smiling cor- 
dially. He looked so sociable and so much like a 
gentleman, with his hair neatly parted in the middle, 
that the monkeys all shouted in chorus: "You begin, 
Mr. Chimpanzee, and tell us about your family. 
You are the wisest and most like man of any of us.” 

"Oh, thank you, my friends; you are very kind 
indeed,” said Mr. Chimpanzee modestly, "but don’t 


MONKEYSHINES 


99 

you think we Africans should give way to our guests 
from other countries, our South American cousins 
perhaps?’’ 

‘‘No, no, no,” chimed some of the monkeys from 
the New World. “Many of us are not awake yet. 
Part of our family sleeps all day, so we had better 
wait until later.” 

“Oh, very well,” continued Mr. Chimpanzee, “I 
will go on then. My family has been called by man 
the most intelligent of the Monkey Tribe. But, of 
course, I don’t see how man knows anything about 
it,” he added hastily, for Surly Gorilla and Grand- 
father Baboon were beginning to look angry and show 
their teeth. “I am( sure we are not beautiful.” 
Then he saw that everyone looked pleasant again. 

“We have only hands, and we have to walk on the 
outside edges of the hind hands, so that makes us bow- 
legged and unable to stand up straight, besides. 
But when it comes to climbing about in the trees, 
where the largest part of our lives is spent, those four 
hands are very useful. We don’t go in troops, but 
sometimes several of us build nests close together, 
which look like a cozy little village among the 
leaves.” 

“If you please, Mr. Chimpanzee, how do you build 
your nest?” piped up Mammy Marmoset in her 
sweet, birdlike voice. 

“We just twist and weave small branches into a sort 
of platform for Mother Chimpanzee and the babies. 


100 


IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

Then we fathers sleep on the branches below — down- 
stairs, you might say,'’ replied Mr. Chimpanzee. 

^‘That sounds very well,” trilled Mammy Marmoset, 
sitting up like a squirrel. ^‘But down in South 
America, where I come from, we just curl up in a ball 
at bedtime. The marmosets are very tiny, only eight 
inches long, but I am proud to say that they can look 
anybody in the eye, and that’s more than other 
monkeys can do.” 

Mammy Marmoset looked exactly like a funny 
little old lady, with a black face, long white hair, 
and very dirty gloves. 

‘‘But where in the world are those naughty chil- 
dren, Margie and Georgie, who came with me,” cried 
she. “Those pigmy marmoset babies are so tiny I 
can’t keep track of them. I am in a flutter all the 
time.” 

“Here we are, Mammy,” came a low, soft call. 
“We are having such fun wrestling. We’re standing 
on Grandpa Baboon’s hand.” Sure enough, there they 
were, those four-inch tall monkeys — the smallest in 
the world. 

By this time Surly Gorilla had kept still as long 
as he could, so with a snarl he said: 

“I am the biggest of all the apes, and I ought to 
have a chance to talk, before these little ones who 
couldn’t kill anything but a fly begin. I come from 
Africa. I am six feet tall, strong, and very fierce. 
Do you see the odd way the hair grows on my arm? 


MONKEYSHINES 


lOI 


From the shoulder to the elbow it grows down, and 
from the wrist to the elbow it grows up. So when it 
rains, all I have to do is to put my arms over my 
head and the rain rolls off as it would from a thatched 
roof. Now that is a clever arrangement, isn’t it?” 

“Oh, my, that’s nothing!” cried Mr. Orang Outang. 
“My arms are so long that I can walk on them as if 
they were crutches, and I am one of the largest and 
strongest apes too. But I like the trees so well that 
I seldom come down to the ground. In Borneo, 
where I live, we go in great troops, eat fruits, leaves, 
and buds, and drink the water we find on the leaves 
of the trees. We never jump from bough to bough. 
I should say not! We are too dignified and solemn for 
such antics. There is no silly fun in us. We just 
walk to the end of a limb and swing by our arms to 
the next. Even Baby Orang is a solemn little thing, 
and stays quietly with his mother. Only the crocodile 
and Twisty Python dare attack us, and we are a 
match for them both. But what in the world is the 
matter, Greenie Monk? You act very nervous. Can’t 
you wait until a fellow’s through?” 

“I’d like to get a word or two in edgeways,” 
chattered the Green Monkey. “Man pays a great 
deal of attention to me, and I’d like to know why 
monkeys shouldn’t. I am the one that hand-organ 
grinders always carry, and zoos have more of my 
kind than of any other. Children love me when I 
am young and gentle, but they should beware when 


102 


IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 


I am old and cross! At home here in Africa each 
drove has its leader, and lives in its own district. 
If a green monkey crosses his boundary into another 
district, he has to fight. We believe in keeping out 
strangers.’’ 

‘‘So do we Galadas,” screamed the baboon from 
Abyssinia, which is part of Africa. “Why, sometimes 
when we are raiding an orchard at night we meet a 
band of Arabian baboons, and then there is a scrim- 
mage, I can tell you! The whole place looks like a 
rolling, tumbling, biting mass of mad baboons. It’s 
great fun, but a little hard on the orchard.” 

“We do a bit of stealing ourselves now and then,” 
chattered Handy Hanuman, who had a black face 
and bushy eyebrows. “You see, we’re from India, 
and the Hindus who live in India believe we are 
sacred, so they never harm us, no matter what we do. 
It’s a great temptation to help ourselves at fruit stalls 
and bazaars. I don’t believe you could resist it 
either. But we have our enemies too. I guess every- 
one has something to look out for. We are dreadfully 
afraid of Stripey Tiger and the cobra.” 

“Hello there, Cousin Handy,” called Gibby Gibbon, 
making a thirty-foot leap through the air to the tree 
where Handy sat, and scarcely touching his fingers 
to the branches. “I am glad to see someone from 
home. I’m from India too. I’m the greatest acrobat 
of the Jungle. When I walk I clasp my hands behind 
my neck to balance myself. But dear me! I have so 


MONKEYSHINES 


103 

many accomplishments that I don’t know where to 
begin. We Gibbons live in companies of fifty or more, 
and give beautiful concerts to great Big, Bright Mr. 
Sun when he gets up in the morning, and to the little 
Twinkling Stars when they come out at night. Our 
concerts are two hours long and can be heard for miles. 
Maybe we’ll give one tonight if we ever get through 
this tiresome business. Oh, I could tell you much 
more if I didn’t have to do my gymnastic exercises.” 
Then off he flew from tree to tree, so fast that an 
eye could scarcely follow him. 

^‘Well, I declare,” said the Proboscis Monkey, “if 
I went so fast as that I’d bump my nose every minute. 
Even at the rate I go I have to hold my hand over it 
for protection against the branches. You see, that’s 
what my funny, long name means. Proboscis means 
just nose, and mine is longer than the word. It will 
be three or four inches long when I’m grown up. 
Then with these splendid bushy whiskers I will look 
so much like a man that the people of Borneo, where 
I live, will declare that I am one. They will say I 
live in the forest to avoid paying taxes. That’s a 
good joke, I think.” 

“Gracious,” sniffed Blackie Saki. “I don’t think 
noses amount to much, but beards are really worth 
while. I have the finest in the whole monkey family, 
and isn’t my long black hair, parted in the middle, 
nice? They say it looks just like a wig. Maybe I 
am too vain about my beard, but when one has 


104 


IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 


something fine, I believe in taking care of it. I do 
hate to get it wet; so if nobody’s looking, when I’m 
thirsty, I simply take some water in the palm of my 
hand and carry it carefully to my mouth. I am from 
South America, where the really wonderful monkeys 
live,” continued Blackie Saki boastfully, and he is so 
ill-tempered that nobody dares contradict him. ‘‘Yes, 
sir,” he went on, “we have tails that can be used like 
hands, and cheek pouches where we stow away food 
for future meals.” 

“That’s right,” called out Brother Longlegs, the 
Spider Monkey. “Everything Blackie says is true. 
It’s like having five hands to own a tail like mine. I 
can even feed myself with it, and when I walk, it 
sticks straight up and keeps the balance like a tight- 
rope walker’s pole. Other monkeys nibble the tips 
of their tails the way in which naughty children do 
their finger nails, but not I! My tail is too valuable! 
What’s that. Surly Gorilla? Did you say that I look 
like a bunch of legs tied with a knot in the middle? 
Well I don’t care if I do,” chuckled Brother Longlegs, 
his black eyes snapping with mischief. “I can beat 
you in a race through the trees. Do you want to 
try? But when do we begin to have some fun? 
Haven’t we had enough business? I say, let’s play!” 

“We say so too!” rose a chorus of voices from the 
already restless band. Monkeys cannot keep their 
minds on one thing very long, and hardly ever finish 
what they have started out to do. 


MONKEYSHINES 


105 

No one needed a second suggestion to play. Mr. 
Chimpanzee leaped into the clearing which was spotted 
with patches of moonlight like a leopard's coat. ''I am 
going to dance," he cried. “ Come on, everybody," 
and he began to beat on his queer little mud drum 
which he had made for himself. Soon all the lively 
members of the monkey family were leaping and 
hopping and barking gleefully. 

Then the little night prowlers began to open their 
great round eyes. Kinky Kinkajou from South 
America, Aye-Aye Lemur from Madagascar, and 
Slender Loris from India stretched themselves and 
roused from their all-day nap. Up in the trees the 
Howler family started their nightly concert. One 
long bark from the leader, and then a din such as 
you have never heard! The sweet silence of the 
Deep Woods was torn by howls, growls, and groans. 
Reddy Howler and his family were imitating Pouncer 
Jaguar, and everybody knew that the concert would 
last all night. 

^^Give us some of your acrobatics, Brother Long- 
legs," called Grandpa Baboon as well as he could 
above the noise. 

''All right," cried Brother Longlegs merrily, and 
quick as a wink a cluster of Spider Monkeys had 
caught hold of each other's arms, legs, and tails, and 
hung in a chattering mass, suspended from a tree by 
Brother Longlegs' one strong tail. 

But the babies had the best time of all, sliding 


io6 IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

down grassy slopes, turning somersaults, taking droll 
little jumps and leaps in the air, clapping their hands, 
and making funny faces at each other, just like real 
youngsters. 

Only Mr. Orang Outang and Surly Gorilla looked 
on, too solemn and too cross to take part in the fun. 
At what time the party broke up, nobody knows. 
Reddy Howler said that he, for one, was going to 
stay until daybreak. But when Big, Bright Mr. Sun 
came laughing up over the Little Hills, even Reddy 
had gone, and the Deep Woods were wrapped in vel- 
vet silence. 


HOW SNOWY LEOPARD LOST HIS SPOTS 

From the hills above Darjeeling, away up in the 
northern part of India, Spotty Leopard looked down 
on other hills dotted with round, low tea bushes, 
like so many fatly stuffed footstools. There too was 
the big, busy market place where soft warm furs, 
beautiful embroideries, and odd, rude jewelry, made 
of silver, turquoise, and coral, were for sale. Far- 
ther above him — up, up in the air, hung the great, 
white-headed Himalaya mountains, looking protect- 
ingly over everything. 

Spotty had been enjoying himself very much until 
he saw little Bhuta, who lived just over the border 
in Thibet. Bhuta had come down to the market 
with his mother to help sell the long silver earrings 
and the queer turquoise and silver charm which she 
wore for good luck. But it was the fur cap Bhuta 
was wearing which caught Spotty^s eye. Very beauti- 
ful it was too, but so much like Spotty’s own pretty 
coat that it made him shiver. 

“I don’t like the idea of someone wearing my skin 
— no, not the least little bit, but there isn’t any use 
in worrying about it,” said Spotty to himself. “I 
could hide easily enough if anyone got after me — 
yes, easily, except up there in the snow,” and he 

107 


io8 IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

glanced up the mountainside to the shining white 
expanse beyond the snow line. ‘^Not a bush nor a 
stone there to protect anybody! I wish I had a nice 
white coat like Furry Fox or Erma Ermine, but they 
say that a leopard canT change his spots, so I guess 
I won’t think about it. See the big crowd in the 
market place this morning! But what was that 
terrible sound? A hunter’s gun?” 

Spotty had heard that sound before, but never so 
near as this. He couldn’t believe his ears, so he 
stayed very still for a second and waited. Then that 
terrible boom was heard again, closer and louder 
than ever. His enemies were coming ! Spotty bounded 
up the steep mountainside like a flash. From bush to 
bush and rock to rock he went, with quick, cat-like 
jumps; then on and on until the way grew rougher 
and barer and stonier, while his heart beat 
madly. 

^‘Perhaps the danger is over now,” thought Spotty. 
But no! That horrid booming sound and the shouts 
of human voices drove him on again. In front of 
him lay the dreaded snow line, and before he knew 
it he was out on the great glistening side of the moun- 
tain with never a stick nor a stone in all that white 
expanse to hide behind. Every dark spot on his 
tawny body seemed to stand out brighter than before. 
Just then Spotty caught sight of Ibey Ibex, the 
mountain goat. From a lofty cliff Ibey whistled 
to him not to be afraid. That was all right for 


HOW SNOWY LEOPARD LOST HIS SPOTS 109 

Ibey Ibex, who could leap from crag to crag where 
no man ever dared to venture. 

Then out of a snug little drift in the snow peeped 
Erma Ermine. As white as she could be, even to 
the end of her long furry tail, was Erma, but the 
very point of that tail was prettily tipped with black. 
Erma put out her head cautiously, for she was much 
in awe of Spotty Leopard, and she was sure that if 
she kept very quiet in the snow she would be safe. 
But when she saw poor Spotty panting and leaping 
so wildly, she realized that he was in danger, and 
she just couldn’t help giving him a word of cheer 
from her kind little heart. 

“Don’t be discouraged, Spotty,” she called. “You’ll 
get away from them, I know.. You are doing splendidly.” 

Spotty couldn’t even gasp his thanks to this new- 
found friend, but turned on her a grateful eye and 
bounded away. He almost stumbled over Leaper, 
the hare, who was so round and white that he looked 
like a lump of ice in Spotty’s pathway. Next ap- 
peared Furry Fox, in his glistening white coat. He 
was barely visible to the fear-blinded Spotty Leopard. 

“Sorry for you, old man,” called Furry from a safe 
distance. “ I wish I could help. As a matter of fact, 
all you need is to be white, like some of the rest of us.” 

White! That was it. He ought to be white! 

“ Oh, how I wish I could be white, if only for a few 
minutes,” cried Spotty. “I never wished anything so 
hard in my life. It wouldn’t hurt anybody and 


no IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

would help me so much. With all my heart I wish 
I were white!’’ 

Just then he noticed his paw which stretched out 
in front of him as he leaped and plunged along, 
fleeing from his pursuers. It was white! Spotty was 
so surprised that he forgot all about running away 
from the hunters. He stopped stock-still and looked 
at himself. Sure enough; he was the same color 
all over! He wasn’t quite as white as snow perhaps, 
but light enough to be lost to the eye of the hunter. 
However, there still were faint, shadowy-brown spots 
on his coat, so he wouldn’t forget that he belonged 
to the leopard family. 

Poor, tired Spotty was so happy and relieved that 
he sank down into a friendly snowdrift to catch his 
breath. No more shouts nor sounds of gun-shots 
floated up to him from below. 

Never in his life had Spotty Leopard been so ex- 
cited, and he just couldn’t wait to show his new 
coat to Mrs. Bear, Furry Fox, Erma Ermine, Musky 
and Barker Deer, and all the other mountain folks. 

^H’ll have to change my name,” said he to him- 
self. ^H’ll tell them that they must call me ^ Snowy’ 
after this. That’s much prettier too.” 

^^Well, anyway,” thought Snowy Leopard as he 
trotted merrily along, ‘Hf you wish something good, 
and wish it hard enough, it seems to me that you 
will be very likely to get it.” 


THE MORNING BATH 


Mr. and Mrs. Rose-breasted Grosbeak had made 
a discovery, and both of them had done this at the 
very same time. They had found a lovely bathtub 
which looked as if it was meant just for birds. 
Last night’s gentle rain had filled it with fresh, 
clear water. But this bathtub, like almost every 
good thing, had its drawbacks. It was very near a 
house. In fact, it was a hollow in an old stone 
doorstep of a house, right at the back door where 
children romped in from school. These little folks 
went through the kitchen to get cookies or dough- 
nuts, no doubt. But, just the same, it was a per- 
fectly wonderful bathing place for birds. 

Let’s take the risk, my dear,” said Mrs. Gros- 
beak bravely. “I don’t see anyone about now, and 
it’s too lovely to miss. I feel just like having a dip. 
But there isn’t room for more than one, so I will 
go in first.” 

Peek-peek-peek,” sang Mr. Grosbeak in his pleas- 
ant voice. ‘^1 am sure, my dear, that there’s 
plenty of room for both of us. I will go in on the 
other side. You see it is really quite large enough 
for two.” 

Mr. Grosbeak looked very handsome as he perched 


II2 


IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

on the edge of the tiny pool, with his black head 
and back, rose-red breast, and tail jauntily tipped 
with white. But all his good humor and beauty 
did not soften Mrs. Grosbeak. She was determined 
to have the bathtub to herself. 

‘‘I don't agree with you at all," said she, giv- 
ing poor Mr. Grosbeak a peck and pushing him 
away. Peek-peek-peek," went she, stretching her 
neck out very long and scolding and chattering at 
Mr. Grosbeak. “Don't bother me any longer. I 
am in a dreadful hurry." 

When Mr. Grosbeak heard that, he hopped aside 
in the most gentlemanly way, and waited while Mrs. 
Grosbeak stepped into the clear, cool water and flut- 
tered and fluffed her brown wings, as if she were 
enjoying her bath and her triumph very much. 

Mrs. Grosbeak is not so handsome a bird as her 
husband. She wears a simple brown dress and looks 
more like a large sparrow than anything else. 

But do you think that tiny, shiny pool was over- 
looked by other birds very long? No, indeed! Little 
Chipper Chewink had already seen it, glistening in 
the sun. Quick as a flash, there he was, perched on 
the edge of the stone step, longing to get into the 
water. 

“Of course," thought he, “Mr. and Mrs. Gros- 
beak are here, but there seems to be room for all of 
us." Then, as he bowed very politely, he said, “I 
hope you do not mind my joining you." 



Mrs. Grosbeak was Enjoying her Bath 


“3 


1 14 IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

Chipper Chewink is a lively, businesslike fellow, 
who generally has things his own way in the bushes 
and thickets where he lives. So Chipper never 
dreamed that he would be unwelcome. 

^‘Well, who in the world is this?’’ cried Mrs. 
Grosbeak impatiently, as she stopped fluttering and 
splashing in the water to look at the small stranger. 
^‘What do you mean by intruding, sir?” 

Never in your life have you heard such a scolding 
and screaming and chirping as followed. Mrs. Gros- 
beak simply forgot all about her manners. 

‘^Goodness,” thought Chipper Chewink, ‘‘I should 
prefer to wait all day and have peace.” So, with a 
fluff-fluff of his short wings, up into the nearest 
tree he flew. 

Now, having routed the last intruder and gained 
her own way, Mrs. Grosbeak enjoyed her bath im- 
mensely. Soon she flew away with a cheery ‘‘Peek- 
peek” to Mr. Grosbeak, who lost no time in going 
into the water himself. 

But Chipper Chewink was watching from the tree. 
Yes, indeed; he still had his bright little eye on that 
bathtub. Mr. Grosbeak looked friendly, and Chip- 
per thought he would like to find out what Mrs. 
Grosbeak had made all that fuss about anyway. 
So down flew Chipper to join him. Mr. Grosbeak 
was very polite and cordial, and after the bath, 
clearing his throat with an awkward chirp, he said, 

“You really must excuse Mrs. Grosbeak, Mr. 


THE MORNING BATH 


115 

Chewink. She was a little impolite this morning, I 
am afraid, but you see she was very anxious to get 
back to our babies. We don’t dare to leave them 
alone very long. With snakes and weasels and 
thoughtless little boys about, we have to be on the 
watch. But Mrs. Grosbeak is always just a bit 
cross with the cares of a young family on her shoulders.” 

‘‘Oh, of course, I understand,” sang Chipper Che- 
wink cheerily. “I didn’t mind at all. But you don’t 
have to be as careful as we. Your nest is in the 
trees, while ours is on the ground.” 

Chipper really felt all right, now that he knew 
the reason for Mrs. Grosbeak’s ill temper. 

“But even with cares,” he thought to himself, 
“she should have been a little more polite and un- 
selfish.” 

“Shall we go now; peek-peek-peek?” sang Mr. 
Rose-breasted Grosbeak pleasantly. 

“Yes, indeed; chewink-chewink, pill-a-will-a-willa,” 
answered Chipper Chewink, and off they flew. 


HOW THE ANIMALS CHOSE A KING 


The most exciting thing was about to happen in 
Animal Land! The animals were going to choose a 
king. That night there would be a big meeting in 
the desert, and Mr. Lion was growing anxious, for 
the sun had already set. 

“Hurry up, my dear,” said he in his softest growl 
to Mrs. Lion, “or we shall be very late.” 

“Yes, yes, father,” replied Mrs. Lion from the 
depths of the cave, “in a minute. I must get Tawny 
and Spotty tucked in. You see. Tawny was naughty, 
and I couldn’t leave him until he had said that he 
was sorry,” said Mrs. Lion as she came out into the 
cool evening air. 

“Now you go in front, my dear,” said Mr. Lion, 
“and let’s walk as fast as we can, for it’s going to 
be a very interesting meeting, and we are a little 
late.” 

Softly they swung along, with Mrs. Lion walking 
ahead, over the bare, rocky hills of the desert. 
Deserts are not all smooth yellow sand, stretching 
away as far as you can see. No, indeed! They have 
sharp, high hills and rough, rocky places, and once 
in a while a refreshing pool of water with palm trees 
growing around it, which is called an oasis The 

ii6 


HOW THE ANIMALS CHOSE A KING 117 

changing lights of day and night throw beautiful 
colors over the desert too. Maybe in a land where 
no showers ever fall that takes the place of our 
lovely rainbow. 

The meeting was being held in a sandy spot where 
the high rocks cast long purple shadows. Usually not 
a sound was heard there, but tonight the cool air 
was full of voices. Every animal from far and near 
had come, even from India. Nobody knows how they 
got there. When Mr. and Mrs. Lion slipped quietly 
into their places, big gray Polly Parrot had the 
floor — or the rock as it happened to be. ■ 

‘‘Now,’’ shouted Polly, shaking her claw, “my 
candidate for king is Mr. Giraffe. He is the tallest 
animal in the world.” Then she paused to see how 
the others liked what she had said. “He is swifter 
than any horse and can go without water for many 
weeks, and he lives on the highest mountain in Africa.” 

There were a few murmurs of: “But he hasn’t 
any voice,” which were drowned in the loud applause. 
Mr. Giraffe bowed very gracefully, bending his long 
neck as far down as he could. 

“I move we nominate Mr. Chimpanzee,” said 
Carrie Carabao, climbing on to the high rock and 
puffing her words out slowly from the exertion. 
“He is the wisest and cleverest of all of us. He 
walks upright, has no tail, and is most like man in 
brain power. You have all seen him dance in the 
moonlight and beat on his drum made of dried clay. 


Ii8 IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

Then think of his marvelous little house of twigs 
and leaves which he builds in the trees. He’s surely 
every inch a king when he sits under that noble 
canopy.” 

“Second the motion/’ piped up Timmy Crane, 
Carrie Carabao’s best friend. A few cheers followed, 
and Mr. Chimpanzee, with his hair parted neatly in 
the middle, as he always wears it, rose and bowed 
like a gentleman, even though the applause wasn’t 
very encouraging. 

“What’s the matter with Husky Tusky?” cried 
Billie Mongoose as he leaped to the rock. “He’s 
the largest animal in the world. Even Stripey Tiger 
is afraid of him. But he’s gentle and kind with his 
friends and very, very sociable. He can scent rain- 
fall for many miles, and his judgment is wiser than 
man’s, for he can tell when a bridge is not strong 
enough to hold him and will refuse to cross it.” 

Billie couldn’t say any more, as the cheers were so 
loud and long. Great, gray Husky Tusky looked 
very sheepish out of his twinkling eye and waved 
his trunk back and forth in modest thanks. 

As soon as the applause had died away a little. 
Grouchy Camel began to talk. “There’s no question 
in my mind about who should be king. My cousin, 
Don Dromedary, is the one. He’s the most valuable 
beast of burden in the world, and, besides, his flesh 
is tender for eating. Tents and rugs are made of 
his skin, and warm cloth of his silkv hair. He does 


HOW THE ANIMALS CHOSE A KING 119 

not need to eat or drink on a long journey across 
the desert, but carries water in his twelve stomachs 
and draws strength from his hump, even though he 
has only one, while we from India have two. Do 
you know how fast he can travel? A hundred miles 
in eleven hours!” 

“We don’t like his temper,” chirped Tweet and^ 
Pete, the parakeets, from the back row. But their 
voices were quickly drowned in cheers for Don 
Dromedary, who bowed as graciously as he could, 
for he didn’t want anybody to think that Tweet 
and Pete were right about his snarly disposition. 

At this Stripey Tiger sprang lightly on to the 
speaker’s rock, and stillness fell on the gathering. 
It was growing a little dark, and Stripey’s eyes 
shone out of the dusk like two green moons. 

“Friends,” said he in his best purring tone, “I 
want 'to suggest for king a cousin of mine — Mr. 
Lion! He is very strong and very fierce, but there 
is something much better about him. When he and 
Mr3. Lion go out together, he always walks behind 
her at a respectful distance. When food is needed, 
he hunts for it, and when it is caught he never eats 
until Mrs. Lion has come and eaten first, or else 
he carries it to her. He is brave and fearless in 
defending her from danger. He teaches the baby 
lions to hunt, and keeps them at home in the cave 
until they are three years old. He’s a kind father 
and a good husband. Now I nominate Mr. Lion. 


120 IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

not because he is the strongest and fiercest animal, 
but because he is the politest animal in the world.. 
Mr. Lion — King of the Beasts 
Well, the uproar lasted at least ten minutes. 
Then Polly Parrot shrieked, ''Put it to a voteP’ 
Of course the "Yeas’’ had it; there wasn’t a single 
"Nay.” 

" Unanimous, Unanimous shouted PoUy. Then 
Mr. Lion came out, shook his mane, and gave 
three rousing roars for Animal Land. These rolled 
out over the desert like thunder, while Mrs. Lion 
purred and waved her tail with pride and pleasure. 

So, they say, that’s the way Mr. Lion became 
King of the Beasts. More good comes from being 
polite than from being powerful. 


THE GOOD CITIZEN 


Far up in the Deep Woods of Canada lives a good 
citizen — as good a citizen as anyone could wish. 
He’s faithful, thrifty, industrious, honest, and kind, 
and he isn’t a man either. He is just round, fat, 
little Busy Beaver, with his webbed hind paws, his 
broad, flat tail, and his thick fur coat. 

It was a cool autumn evening when Busy Beaver 
and his friends gathered on the bank of the river 
which ran through the Deep Woods. The air was 
so fine and crisp that almost anyone would have 
wanted a good romp through the woods or a paddle 
in the stream which flowed merrily along toward the 
rolling sea. 

But do you think Busy Beaver with his family 
and friends was going to frolic and idle away the 
time? Not a bit of it! There must have been two 
hundred beavers, of all sizes and ages, gathered by 
the river’s edge. Each one was ready to work and 
waiting for orders. There wasn’t a lazy bone in 
their bodies. 

So when Busy Beaver said, “I have an idea: 
let’s build Beaver Village right here and begin with 
the public works,” each one of the throng was happy. 
They didn’t waste anv time, but ran as fast as they 


I2I 


122 


IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

could to the trees and started to gnaw. You see 
the public works of a town are the things which 
are good for everybody, like schoolhouses and parks, 
and the thing which is good for everybody in a 
beaver village is a dam across the river. 

Sitting propped up on their broad, fiat tails, the 
beavers gnawed the trees. In a very few minutes 
trunks four inches thick, gnawed through by the 
beavers’ sharp teeth, fell to the ground with a crash 
and a bang. But these wood-cutters were never 
crushed by the falling trees. The wise little fellows 
just gave a glance now and then at the tree tops, 
and when they began to sway, the beavers ran as 
fast as they could to safety, where they stayed until 
the great trunk lay on the ground. 

Then the bark had to be all taken off and the 
trees cut into logs, about four feet long. Do you 
know why these clever little animals strip off the 
bark? It is because wood doesn’t decay so quickly 
when the bark is off. 

Just as fast as the logs were ready, other beavers 
dragged them to the river and swam out with them. 
Some of their brothers then sank the logs and fastened 
them to the bottom of the stream with mud and 
stones. Others plastered mud between the logs, so 
that they would be strong and sure. But the plaster 
had to be made. Lots of little beavers were bringing 
earth in their mouths, while others mixed it into mor- 
tar with their feet. You might think they would use 


All The Beavers Were Eager for Work 











wwirail 


Tf 

i>.4jS5SSa5W 








v:>kV. \ \ ' 






123 





124 


IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 


their broad, flat tails to mix the mortar with, but 
they don’t. However, Busy Beaver has many other 
uses for his tail. It is a prop when he sits up, he 
gives the water a resounding slap with it when he 
wants to warn the beaver village of danger, and it 
makes a splendid rudder when he is swimming, for 
Busy Beaver is a famous swimmer. He would rather 
be in the water than on the land, even in winter 
when the water is cold and frozen and he has to 
swim under the ice. 

^‘Remember, folks, we are to build the dam in a 
curve,” cried Busy Beaver cheerily. ‘‘The water 
rushes along very fast right here, and a straight dam 
wouldn’t hold. It must curve upstream, against the 
current too.” 

No engineer could choose better than the little 
beaver what kind of a dam to build. He never 
makes a mistake. Sometimes the dam is straight, 
sometimes curved, and sometimes it forms an angle. 
The reason why he builds the dam at all is' to keep 
the water deep enough so that he can have an under- 
water passage out of his house, for in summer the 
streams dry up and get very shallow. 

When the dam was finished, it was ever so far 
across — almost a hundred feet, six feet thick at the 
bottom, and two feet thick at the top. All the active 
little people of Beaver Village stood still and looked 
at it with pride. They saw the bright waters come 
rushing down, beat against the dam, and flow back 


THE GOOD CITIZEN 125 

again, baffled. It was holding perfectly. When the 
river above the dam began to creep out over the 
grassy meadows and spread itself until it was a big, 
big pond of silvery water. Busy Beaver called out 
with a happy look in his eyes, “Now let’s build 
our homes around this lovely pond. What do you 
say? It seems as if I couldn’t wait to start that 
apartment house I have been thinking about.” 

Well, it didn’t take long for them to follow Busy’s 
suggestion. Of course, it didn’t, when already each 
little beaver was tired of loafing and was aching to 
get back to work. The crowd had broken up into 
small groups of families and friends who thought 
they would like to live together in the same house. 
All were planning and building. Busy Beaver and 
Mrs. Beaver, who had chosen each other as mates 
for life, joined a few of their very best friends and 
began the two-story apartment house which Busy 
had been thinking about in his bright little mind. 

“This is the very spot,” shouted Busy Beaver, 
“right here near the bank, where we can get to shore 
for food. The water is deep too, so we can always 
have a way out under water which is below freezing 
point.” 

The house was built in the same way as the dam, 
with logs and mud mortar, and looked just like a 
cone-shaped pile of wood. Inside, it was clean and 
dry, with the upper story above the level of the 
water, and the lower story built down into the 


126 IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

ground. Rough and uninviting as it appearecJ on 
the outside, it was plastered smooth and nice within. 
There were two doors. One opened right on to the 
land, so Mr. and Mrs. Beaver could go out to get 
food, and the other was like a cellar door. It opened 
deep down under the water, so far down that even 
Jack Frost could never reach it. That door was for 
safety. Nothing could catch Mr. and Mrs. Beaver 
when they went in and out of it. 

Now when Busy and his party of friends had 
finished their fine house, had made it dry and snug, 
and left some little airholes in the roof, they stopped 
to look around. Then they were most astonished, not 
by the Silvery Pond which now spread over many 
acres, nor the Deep Woods which had just lost so 
many of its beautiful trees, nor the splendid dam 
which was holding back the rushing waters so val- 
iantly. It wasn’t any of these things which aston- 
ished them most. No indeed! It was the row of 
little houses all around the Silvery Pond. Beehive 
after beehive it looked like, all finished and ready 
to move into. 

Bless me,” said Busy thoughtfully, ^^how quickly 
Beaver Village has grown! Nothing to do now but 
to get the furniture and start housekeeping. Oh, 
yes, there is too; I nearly forgot the food. We 
must lay in a supply of bark for the winter.” 

So they all went to work again and dragged more 
logs to the edge of the water, and others they stowed 


THE GOOD CITIZEN 


127 


away on the bottom of the pond. Bark seems a 
funny thing to eat, doesn’t it? But there is no 
accounting for taste, and Busy Beaver thinks bark 
the choicest morsel in the world. 

When enough food for the winter had been gathered 
into piles or sunk to the river bed, there was still 
furniture to be provided. So everyone ran off to 
bring mouthfuls of the longest, softest grass and the 
cleanest, freshest chips to be found, for the beaver 
likes to have his house clean. Then into the huts 
these things were carried, and were patted and 
tucked into the snuggest corners of each small apart- 
ment until every last beaver of Beaver Village had 
his own soft, warm, cozy bed. After, pop, went 
each little head into his own back door, you wouldn’t 
have known that there was anything alive in a single 
one of those funny woodpiles along the pond. There 
wasn’t a sign of life, for a sharp chill was in the air, 
and the folks of Beaver Village had gone into winter 
quarters. 

But if you had been walking along through the 
Deep Woods and by the Silvery Pond some fine 
morning the following June, you would have seen 
Busy Beaver and Mrs. Beaver poke their little noses 
very cautiously out of their snug home and take a 
good look around. Then if you had been very still, 
and had kept behind the trunk of a huge tree, you 
would have noticed a very funny procession. You 
would have seen Busy Beaver, Mother Beaver, and 


128 IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

five of the cunningest fuzzy baby beavers there ever 
were come walking solemnly out. Then if you had 
made the very faintest sound it^s possible for a 
little boy or girl to make, quicker than your eye 
could see, Mr. and Mrs. Beaver and the babies 
would have slipped back into the water of the 
Silvery Pond and made off again to their own deep, 
safe back door. 


THE JUNGLE CAFETERIA 


“Wouldn't it be fun if all the Jungle folks could 
eat together?" said Polly Parrot to Teddy Toucan 
and the Secretary Bird as they sat in the bread- 
fruit tree one hot afternoon. “It would have to be 
a place where almost everything grows," said Polly, 
cocking her head on one side thoughtfully. “Let 
me see, what do you think, Teddy?" 

“Well, if you should ask me," screamed Teddy 
Toucan, delighted to get in a word, for he is the 
noisiest bird in the Jungle, “I should say we wouldn’t 
have to go very far." 

“That’s what I think," chattered a voice from the 
nearest palm tree. “Right here is the best spot in 
the whole world." 

“Why, there’s Jacky Monk," cried Mr. Secretary 
Bird, looking up. “Now that you mention it, Jacky, 
I believe you are right. There is certainly every- 
thing here which you who like vegetables could 
want, and I guess I can pick up a nice juicy snake 
somewhere about." 

“Let’s call the other animals and see how they 
like the idea," said Polly. “You swing off that way, 
Jacky, and tell everyone you see, while I fly in this 
direction." 


129 


130 IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

Of course, it didn’t take two such good talkers as 
Polly and Jacky very long to call all the animals in 
the Jungle, and pretty soon they began to come. 
Husky Tusky and Grouchy Camel were in the lead, 
while Bulky Hippo plowed slowly behind. 

Hurry up. Bulky,” said his chum Ranny Rhino, 
giving Bulky an occasional poke with his horn. 
‘^You know I like to go faster than this. Let me 
get in front.” 

‘‘You couldn’t do any better, Ranny,” grunted 
Bulky. “Husky and Grouchy are in the lead, and 
they are so dignified they won’t hurry.” 

“Oh, do take it easy, Ranny,” croaked Fanny 
Frog, as she and Lizzie Lizard came up beside him. 
“Give us little folks a chance to catch up. Mrs. 
Ostrich and Raffy Giraffe are pushing us from be- 
hind. Oh, please stop crowding so; we are all out 
of breath.” 

“I never saw such fast walkers in my life as those 
two,” puffed Sally Sloth Bear to Bolita Armadillo, 
who came trundling along next. “They must be 
awfully hungry. I don’t think it’s very good man- 
ners to be so greedy as that, do you?” 

“Well, I don’t care if it isn’t,” cried Billie Mon- 
goose, scampering in and out under their feet. “I 
want something to eat!” 

“No trouble to keep up with this crowd, is it?” 
called Hattie Heron to the Great Bustard as they 
came flapping along overhead in a leisurely fashion. 


THE JUNGLE CAFETERIA 


131 

“But if we get too far from the Yellow River, I 
don’t believe there will be much of a feast for me. 
I like fish on Friday and on every other day too.” 

At the end of the procession came Stripey Tiger 
and Mr. Lion, creeping along very low to the ground. 
To be sure, the end of the procession was a strange 
place for the King of the Beasts and the Terror of 
the Jungle to have. But you see they both felt very 
doubtful about this party. 

“I am afraid there won’t be anything there we 
like to eat,” roared Mr. Lion. 

“Except the guests,” replied Stripey in his lowest 
and softest purr. 

“Oh, it wouldn’t be polite to eat them, would 
it?” growled Mr. Lion. “Anyway, we can leave 
early if the party doesn’t suit us.” 

So, tramp-tramp, pitter-patter, hurry-scurry, whirr- 
burr, they went along the Winding Way, until at 
last they came to the place where Jacky Monk, 
Polly Parrot, Mr. Secretary Bird, and Teddy Toucan 
were sitting on the lowest branch of the breadfruit 
tree. It had looked just like a circus parade, only 
they didn’t know it, for, of course, none of them had 
ever been in a circus parade. I hope these happy 
wild things will never have to, don’t you? 

“Whoop-ee,” screamed Jacky and Polly in chorus. 

“Right this way,” called Mr. Secretary Bird, in 
his most important manner. 

“Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up,’’ yelled Teddy 


132 IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

’ Toucan in his loud, hoarse voice, clattering his great 
beak. 

“What is ail the fuss about, anyway?’’ rumbled 
Husky Tusky. “It’s nice to have a meeting, but 
what is the idea?” 

“Well, we thought it would be pleasant to eat 
together now and then. I believe it was Miss Parrot’s 
idea in the beginning,” said Mr. Secretary Bird, 
standing up very straight and rustling his quills. 
Now everything is right here that could tempt a 
reasonable palate,” and he looked hard at Stripey 
Tiger and Mr. Lion. “It is going to be one of those 
help-y our self restaurants — a cafe — , cafe — ” 

“I know; a cafeteria,” sang Fanny Frog. “My 
cousins in the United States talk about them. Won’t 
that be fun? May I begin right away?” And she 
whipped out her long, sticky tongue to snap up a 
passing fly. 

“Yes, start right in, friends,” chirped Jacky Monk. 
“Night is coming on, and I for one am hungry.” 

Then Jacky swung over into the cocoanut palm 
and threw a big brown nut down to the ground in 
order to break it. He loves cocoanuts. He ate the 
delicious meat and drank the cool milk with great 
delight. 

“Those fresh green shoots on the bamboo tree 
look good to me,” trumpeted Husky Tusky, as he 
stretched up his trunk for them. “Stand over, Raffy 
Giraffe; you can’t have them all, piggy!” Raffy 


THE JUNGLE CAFETERIA 133 

moved away with a look from his gentle eyes as 
much as to say, “Oh, well, I donT care, as I like 
these better anyway,’’ and then began to browse 
on the tender leaves of the acacia tree. 

“What are you pouting about, Ranny Rhino?” 
said Husky Tusky. 

' “Oh, I don’t like all these dry things,” grunted 
Ranny dolefully. “Let’s go down to the Yellow 
River where that good marsh grass grows. Come on, 
Raffy; you want a drink, don’t you?” But Raffy 
Giraffe gave him a scornful look. “Goodness, I 
forgot that Raffy can’t talk. He wouldn’t go one 
step out of his way for a drink either, for he is 
hardly ever thirsty. I guess I’ll have to go alone,” 
said Ranny to himself. 

“Come over here, Ranny, quick,” called Bulky 
Hippo. “This is the most wonderful sugar cane 
you ever dreamed of. My, but it is good,, almost as 
good as Farmer Tamil’s green corn! Come on; it 
wiU make you forget all about marsh grass.” 

“I wish I had some dates,” scolded Grouchy Camel. 
“Don Dromedary is always talking about the ones 
they have in Africa.” 

“Don’t be so fussy, Grouchy,” called Billie Mon- 
goose. “You know you like leaves and grass too.” 

“Well, yes, I do,” admitted Grouchy a little more 
pleasantly. “I don’t really dislike thorn bushes and 
nettles. If I can’t get anything else, an old blanket 
or a hide will do, and even a bit of fish or meat.” 


134 IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

“Fish? Who said ^fishV^’ piped Hattie Heron ex- 
citedly. “I have been watching you people eat until 
I can’t stand it any longer. I’m going down to the 
Yellow River to catch some fish. I shall just stand 
up to my knees in the water, under a shady tree, 
and pick up Mr. Fish as he comes along. I’m off 
now. Good-bye!” 

“ Well, as for me, I agree with Hattie about this 
vegetable diet. I don’t think much of it,” said Mr. 
Secretary Bird, decidedly. “I like a bit of meat 
myself. A nice, long, slippery snake is the choicest 
morsel for me. That makes me very useful to man 
too. My brothers down in Africa are tamed and 
kept in the poultry yard to kill snakes. Perhaps 
I’m far enough away to safely say that now and then 
a chicken is snapped up too.” 

“I like fruit,” said Polly Parrot, pecking at a 
large red pomegranate she held in one claw. 

“So do I, especially bananas,” shouted Teddy 
Toucan at the top of his lungs as usual, “and that 
is where my long beak comes in handy. It looks 
discouraging to have a beak almost as big as one’s 
body, doesn’t it? But mine is very light, and when 
a nice juicy nectarine is at the tip end of a frail 
branch where I don’t trust myself to go, I can just 
reach out and get a bite. One bite is not enough 
for me, either. I have an enormous appetite; yes, 
sir, e-normous! I like to pick insects out of flowers 
with this beautiful red and yellow beak of mine too.” 


THE JUNGLE CAFETERIA 135 

‘^Now, speaking of insects,” said Sally Sloth Bear, 
as she scratched hard at a great ant-hill, ‘‘I can get 
them better than most of you. Just watch me!” 
Nearly all the animals were too busy eating to 
notice Sally, except Fanny Frog, Lizzie Lizard, and 
Bolita Armadillo, who were especially interested in 
insects. They stopped to see if they could learn any 
new ways of getting food. Sally Sloth Bear went right 
on tearing away the wonderfully built home of the ant 
family, with her sharp fore claws, until she had 
reached the part where the ants were thickest. Then 
with a great puff she blew away the dust and sucked 
up a huge mouthful of the unlucky insects in one 
big breath. 

^‘That is all right,” said Bolita Armadillo pleas- 
antly, ‘‘but I like just as well my way of digging 
them out of the ground with my claws, and really 
I believe I prefer roots and grain. How do you 
feel about it, Lizzie?” 

“Oh, I especially like flies and spiders,” cried funny 
little Lizzie Lizard. “I love to stay in houses and 
catch insects, which makes me very dear to the 
people of the hot countries where I live. I can 
run up a wall or ceiling with the greatest ease. 
See the five round, fat toes on each of my feet? 
They are little suckers which hold me to the wall, 
even when I am standing on my head.” 

“Men love me too,” spoke up Billie Mongoose 
brightly. “At Mr. Burners house where I live they 


136 IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

couldn’t get along without me. Once I saved their 
little boy’s life from a cobra.” Pride and happiness 
glowed in Billie’s bright eyes. ‘‘I keep the house 
clear of snakes, rats, and mice, and make a lively 
playmate for the children, besides. I am not very 
fond of a vegetable diet either,” said Billie as he 
caught and ate a field mouse. Then he began care- 
fully to pick his teeth with his claws. 

“Oh my!” whispered Jacky Monk to Polly Parrot. 
“He hasn’t very good manners, has he?” 

“No,” replied Polly under her breath,“but he is 
very clean and neat. It isn’t kind to criticise, 
Jacky.” 

Mrs. Ostrich was busily eating gravel. “Why, 
what are you doing that for, Mrs. Ostrich?” cried 
Hattie Heron, who had just flown back from the 
Yellow River, after having her fill of fish. 

“It is good for my digestion,” answered Mrs. 
Ostrich with dignity. She didn’t like to be asked 
foolish questions. “My doctor says that I must 
eat a little gravel after meals.” 

“Well, I should think you would have to,” said 
Hattie, “after eating bits of iron and wood and all 
those funny things which you seem to like.” 

“But I prefer other things,” said Mrs. Ostrich 
quickly. “Really I do. I like insects, worms, vege- 
tables, fruits, and, most of all, those juicy water- 
melons which grow on the edge of the desert. But 
who is that coming over the top of the hill? Why, 


THE JUNGLE CAFETERIA 137 

bless me; it’s Sunny Bear, from away up in the 
mountains. No wonder he is late.” 

‘‘Woof- woof,” panted Sunny Bear, “but I’m 
hungry! A long journey like that gives me a tre- 
mendous appetite. What have you that’s good to 
eat?” 

“Oh, almost everything,” chorused the Jungle 
folks. “Just help yourself.” 

“Here is exactly what I want,” cried Sunny, for- 
getting his weariness. “I like these delicious mawa 
berries because they are so sweet. I like honey too. 
You know I have a regular sweet tooth,” said Sunny 
with a jolly grunt. 

“Why, there go Stripey Tiger, Mr. Lion, and 
Furry Fox! They are creeping off down the Wind- 
ing Way,” said Ranny Rhino. “I don’t think very 
well of that, do you? I wonder why they left so 
early?” 

“Oh, I suppose they couldn’t stand it not to have 
the kind of food they liked,” snarled Grouchy Camel 
with a curl of his lips. “If they could have had a 
bite at you, Raffy Giraffe, they would have been 
satisfied, I imagine.” 

“Now you shouldn’t blame them,” spoke up Billie 
Mongoose quickly. “They must live and have the 
kind of food they like. Mother Nature made them 
want flesh to eat, and she made all of us clever 
enough to keep out of their wa,y. She has given each 
one of us some way of protecting ourselves. When 


138 IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

the cobra attacks me, I don’t blame him for what 
he can’t help. I just brace up and fight.” 

‘‘Three cheers for Billie Mongoose,” said Husky 
Tusky. “He has as much courage and kindness 
packed away in that little body of his as I have in 
great big me. But I think I’U be joining the herd 
now. I see that almost everybody has gone.” 

So they had. All the animals who sleep by night 
had slipped away to bed, and those who prowl and 
hunt had gone in quest of other food. The great 
breadfruit tree and the tall palm tree looked down on 
an empty, moon-lit space, where the wild folks of 
Animal Land had so lately held their Jungle cafeteria. 


THE SAD LITTLE BLACKBIRD 

Once upon a time, in far-away Burma, little Wadi 
was out for a walk between showers, for it was the 
season when it rains most of the time. Though the 
fog had settled down over everything, so that only 
the tip top of the big gold pagoda showed in the 
distance. Wadi could see a small blackbird sitting on 
the branch of a tree near him. 

‘^Good morning, Mr. Blackbird,’’ said Wadi as 
pleasantly as he could, because he wanted to be 
polite to the stranger. 

The little bird didn’t pay any attention, but just 
hung his head and seemed most awfully sad. 

^‘Please,” asked Wadi, who felt very sorry for the 
little blackbird, ^^can you tell me why you are so sad?” 

Then the bird lifted his head a little and replied: 
^^You see I’ve just been born, and the fairy birds 
who brought me to my shell told me that I would 
have to be black if the sun were not shining the day 
when I came out into the big world. I’d like to be 
a gay yellow bird or a shiny silver one, and so I am 
looking to the east for the great sun. I’ve waited 
and waited and looked and looked, but no sunshine 
has come, and that is why I am so sad. I guess 
I’ll have to fly away to another country when I get 
large enough to seek sunshine and happiness.” 

139 


140 IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

Wadi glanced down at his bright yellow skirt and 
put his hand to the pretty pink handkerchief around 
his head, and then he wondered how it would feel 
to wear dark things all the time. He had never 
realized how lucky he was, for the cheerful, smiling 
people of Burma all wear clothes made of the gayest 
colored silks. 

Just then big, bright Mr. Sun came out of his 
cloud house and made the world appear clean and 
sparkling with little drops of water shining like dia- 
monds everywhere. 

Wadi, who was looking very closely at the bird, 
because he felt sorry for him and wanted to help him, 
began to jump up and down and to clap his hands. 

“Oh, Mr. Blackbird, just look at yourself now!’’ 
cried Wadi. “Your coat is all shiny blue and green. 
It isn’t black any more.” 

Then little Mr. Blackbird looked down at him- 
self as well as he could, and, sure enough, all that 
he could see was beautiful blue and green. 

“Thank you, thank you,” exclaimed the little 
creature happily. “You don’t know how much 
trouble you have saved me. I might have gone 
hundreds of miles away, looking for happiness. 
How glad I am that I stayed at home!” 

So that’s how the blackbird discovered his splen- 
did iridescent coat, and it is also how Wadi learned 
that one can find happiness right where he is if he 
only looks for it. 



HUSKY TUSKY, THE FAITHFUL 


Husky Tusky was shouldering a responsibility — 
yes, indeed, a real responsibility. He liked it too! 
He felt quite equal to it and very proud, for Husky’s 
shoulders were broad, his heart was large, and un- 
usual intelligence looked out of his keen shoe-but- 
ton eyes. 

It was a warm day in the hills. The leaves hung 
very still and lifeless on the trees, and the sun poured 
down hot and bright over the little hut at the edge 
of the Jungle. Everything was quiet about the house, 
quiet because Father Tamil had gone to work on a 
tea plantation, two round hills and a plain away, 
and Mother Sakandra had balanced a big basket of 
fruit and vegetables on her head and gone to the 
nearest village to sell them. Only Baby Chandra 
was left, lying in his cradle, out under the trees. 

Husky loved this blessed wee mite of a baby, 
crowing and kicking his tiny brown heels in the cool 
shade. Gently Husky Tusky rocked the cradle with 
his long trunk, back and forth, to and fro, until 
little Chandra was fast asleep. 

Not a sound was heard in the drowsy, warm air 
but the humming and droning of insects and the 
whirr of a passing bird. Jacky Monk looked down 
from the trees above, chirped a shrill little note to 

142 


HUSKY TUSKY, THE FAITHFUL 


143 


Husky Tusky, and flung himself off through the 
branches. Billie Mongoose whisked past with a shake 
of his bushy tail and a wink of his bright little eye. 
Lizzie Lizard slid by with a friendly wiggle but all 
had kept very quiet, in order not to waken the baby. 

Husky Tusky was growing drowsy too. ‘‘This 
wonT do,’’ he thought with a start. “I shouldn’t 
go to sleep when so great a trust has been placed in 
me. I simply must keep awake!” 

The little house on the edge of the Jungle was a 
long way from the market where Mother Sakandra 
had gone to sell her fruit and vegetables. It was 
farther still from the plantation in the hills where 
Father Tamil was picking the young tea leaves from 
fat round bushes, all day long. Husky knew that 
they could not be back for several hours. 

The day was wearing along to a blazing noon- 
time, and the flies were growing troublesome even 
to Husky’s tough hide. So he stretched up his long 
trunk and broke off a leafy bough from the great 
breadfruit tree above him. This he gently waved 
back and forth over Baby Chandra, and then over 
his own broad back. “Ah, that’s much better,” 
thought he. “Now we are quite comfortable.” 

But to keep himself awake, Husky Tusky looked 
at everything around him. Up into the leaves of 
the cocoanut palm he gazed and thought how useful 
it was to his master, how Father Tamil thatched 
the roof of his house with its leaves, how he ate 


144 IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

the meat of the cocoanut and drank the delicious 
milk inside and how he made mats of the braided 
leaves and dishes of the cocoanut shells. Husky 
Tusky glanced at the long, looping vanilla vines, 
bearing the beans from which our vanilla extract 
comes. Then he looked down at the bare ground 
under his feet and up again into the blinding sky, 
so bright and clear that it was hardly blue at all, 
but white and glaring, as only midday sunshine in 
India can be. 

‘^Big, Bright Mr. Sun is doing his best today,” 
thought Husky. “But what is that speck up there, 
circling and whirling around and around and around? 
It might possibly be King Eagle, but I guess there's 
nothing here that he can get. I am a little too large 
for him, thank goodness! Wouldn't he look funny 
trying to carry me off?'' Husky Tusky's great gray 
sides shook as he chuckled at the idea. “But I 
am sure that speck is coming nearer! Yes, I believe 
it reaUy is King Gold Eagle. Well, if he's the mon- 
arch of the air as he is so proud of saying, he had 
better stay in it. Master hasn't any sheep or 
chickens. I am the only animal he keeps except 
Carrie Carabao, the water buffalo, and we are 
both able to take care of ourselves.'' 

Husky was growing reslesst and hot. He began 
to long for the Yellow River and his nightly bath 
there, and was just wondering if he couldn't slip 
down to get a trunk full of water, when out of the 


HUSKY TUSKY, THE FAITHFUL 


145 

blazing sky there came a terrible roar of wings, a 
swoop like lightning from the heavens. Swift as an 
arrow from a well strung bow, descended Gold Eagle. 
Directly towards the precious baby he flew. But 
quick and sure of aim as was the great bird with 
its sharp talons and curved beak, Husky was quicker. 
It was love that made Husky so quick — love and 
duty. Just before the eagle could reach Baby 
Chandra to bury its claws in the tender brown 
flesh, with his trunk Husky caught King Eagle by 
his proud neck while he clawed and struggled for 
freedom, and in an instant Husky had thrust the 
enemy under his great feet and crushed him. 

Then with a shudder at the thought of Baby 
Chandra’s narrow escape and a great sigh of thank- 
fulness that he hadn’t followed his own selfish wishes 
to go to the Yellow River for a drink, Husky turned 
toward the Winding Way and saw Father Tamil 
and Mother Sakandra coming slowly home. They 
looked tired, but happy as they strained their eyes 
eagerly for a glimpse of their baby. 

Nearer and nearer they came, but when they saw 
the dead eagle under Husky’s big, brave, clumsy 
feet, and their little boy still safe and crowing in 
his cradle, they laughed for joy and cried a little 
too. They called Husky Tusky their treasure of gold, 
the jewel of their eyes, and many other endearing 
terms. Husky Tusky was happier than he had ever 
been before. He was happy because he had been 
faithful to a trust. 


JIMMY FRISKY AND JANE 


Once upon a time, away out in Kansas, there 
lived a little girl named Jane. Jane wanted a pet. 
All her little friends had pets — dogs or kittens or 
canary birds, and one had a parrot. ‘‘These are 
all very nice,” thought Jane, “but I want something 
different.” So, when a neighbor brought her a lovely 
little red squirrel, she jumped up and down and 
clapped her hands for joy. 

This squirrel was the cutest thing Jane had ever 
seen, with his pretty reddish fur, his long bushy tail, 
and his bright, round eyes. How he did fly around! 
He jumped about on tables and chairs so fast that 
Jane said right away: “I’ll call him Jimmy Frisky.” 

So Jimmy Frisky he was, and soon he grew to 
know his name and would come when he was called, 
for Jimmy wasn’t kept in his cage aU the time. He 
was a spoiled member of the family and was allowed 
to roam over the house. 

It was such fun to see Jimmy eat that Jane was 
tempted to feed him very often, and Jimmy liked it! 
The minute he was given a nut, up he would sit, 
as quick as a flash on his little hind legs and curl 
his beautiful long tail over his back. Then he would 
hold the nut in his little fore paws and turn it over 

146 


JIMMY FRISKY AND JANE 147 

and over and over. When he had found a place in 
it to his liking, he would gnaw with his long, sharp 
front teeth right through the shell, no matter how 
hard it was. 

The squirrel belongs to the family of animals 
called “rodents.’’ A rodent is an animal that gnaws. 
All the rodents have very long and sharp front teeth, 
with which they can gnaw through nut shells, and 
some, like the beaver, gnaw through tree trunks. 
Now wouldn’t you think that their teeth would be 
quickly destroyed by such hard substances? Ours 
would, but not theirs, for just as fast as their teeth 
wear oh they grow again. They keep on growing all 
the time. 

Well, Jimmy Frisky had many more nuts than 
were good for him — so many that sometimes he 
couldn’t eat them all, and then his instinct for hoard- 
ing showed itself. Mother Nature has given all little 
squirrels this instinct to store away food for the 
winter, the time when everything is frozen and 
covered with snow and things to eat are hard to find. 

Safe in some hollow stump, or under an old log, 
or down in a hole in the ground, or even under a 
pile of dead leaves, in any place which seems snug 
and dry, these wise little fellows store their food. 
They pack away nuts of all kinds, acorns, grain, 
dried mushrooms and berries, ready for the cold 
days of winter. 

They don’t often forget where they put them, either. 


148 IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

not bright-eyed squirrels! Of course, now and then 
they do fail to come back to a pile of nuts, for they 
usually lay up more than even the hungriest little 
squirrel can eat. But do you think those nuts are 
wasted? Not at all! In time those nuts produce 
fine trees. So the squirrels are a great help to Mother 
Nature. They help to scatter her seeds, and they 
have started many a noble forest. 

Jimmy, too, knew about putting away winter 
stores. He didnT need them, of course, in the good 
home where he was, but he just couldn’t help stor- 
ing away food. When there were more plump rich 
nuts than he could possibly eat, what do you sup- 
pose he did with them? He ran up little Jane’s 
arm and out upon her shoulder, parted her thick 
brown curls, tucked the nuts cozily away in her neck 
and patted the curls down over them. You see 
Jimmy didn’t know that nuts wouldn’t stay very 
long under her curls. They couldn’t, of course, when 
those curls went bobbing up and down as Jane 
romped and played, but Jimmy Frisky was obeying 
the law of instinct. The nuts were stored away, and 
he was satisfied. 

One day, while Jimmy was playing around the 
house, even more lively than usual, he jumped to 
the very tip top of an open door. There he sat 
chattering gaily, his beautiful long tail hanging down 
on one side of the door. When Aunt Helen saw him 
there, looking at her with his bright little eyes and 


149 


JIMMY FRISKY AND JANE 

flirting his tail this way and that, she thought how 
a gust of wind might suddenly slam the door and 
give poor Jimmy’s tail a terrible pinch. So she called 
and called to him to come down, but he only winked 
and blinked and whisked and frisked all the more 
saucily. 

Then Jane tried to coax him. She held out the 
fattest, most tempting nuts she could find. But 
what were nuts to overfed Jimmy? Nuts were no 
novelty! Even the much prized crisp lettuce leaf 
didn’t move the naughty little squirrel. He simply 
sat there on his perch and chattered. 

''Churr -churr -churr,” scolded Jimmy. ‘Hf you 
think I’m coming down from this nice high place, 
you are mistaken. What in the world is all the fuss 
about, dinyway? I’m used to having my own way, 
and I like it.” That was true. Jimmy Frisky was 
very much spoiled, but it really wasn’t his fault. 

'‘Perhaps, if I take hold of the end of his tail 
and pull, oh, ever so gently, he may jump down,” 
said Aunt Helen with a merry laugh. 

"All right, try it. Auntie dear,” cried Jane. 

So Aunt Helen took hold of the long hairs at the 
end of Jimmy Frisky’s tail and gave them the gentlest 
pull she possibly could. What do you suppose hap- 
pened? Instead of having Jimmy drop into her hand 
as she expected, she found that the tip end of Jimmy’s 
tail was in her hand — jnst a bit of skin and fur. 

Poor Aunt Helen couldn’t believe her eyes. She 


150 IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

loved Jimmy Frisky as much as did anyone in the 
family, and she wouldn’t hurt him for the world. 
The end of a squirrel’s tail does come off easily like 
that sometimes, but you see Aunt Helen didn’t 
know it. 

Well, Jane and Aunt Helen and little Brother 
Frankie looked up at the top of the door where 
Jimmy Frisky had been sitting. They expected to 
see the poor little thing suffering, but Jimmy wasn’t 
on the door! 

Down there on the floor was Jimmy, jumping and 
springing from chair to chair and from table to book- 
shelves, livelier than before. Would you believe that 
this funny little squirrel didn’t seem to miss at all 
the tip end of his tail? He acted as happy as ever, 
whisking his tail about, with its bit of bare bone at 
the end, as gaily as if it had been all thick and bushy. 
After a while the bit of bone fell off. Then you 
would never have known that anything had happened 
to Jimmy’s tail, except that it was a little shorter. 

Jimmy Frisky was growing very fat and somewhat 
cross too. The usually jolly little fellow was leading 
an unnatural life, you see. He had been too well 
fed, and he wasn’t having the exercise he needed. 
When squirrels are at home in the trees, they are 
still hardly a moment. 

One lovely summer day, Jane tried letting Jimmy 
out in the yard. Up the great maple tree he went 
like a flash. No one in Animal Land is quicker tjian 


JIMMY FRISKY AND JANE 151 

a squirrel. There he stayed all the long afternoon, 
chattering and chirping with delight and whisking 
about from branch to branch. 

When big, bright Mr. Sun smiled his last good- 
night smile over the tree tops and went to bed, Jimmy 
began to feel hungry and lonesome. Then down he 
dropped into Janets friendly, waiting hands, and back 
she carried him to his cage. 

Jimmy didn’t think of that cage when he came 
down from the tree. He didn’t like cages, no mattei 
how cold and hungry he was, and that was why he 
chattered and scolded at the top of his lungs. 

don’t want to go back. I don’t care for houses 
and cages,” he cried. want the trees, the grass, 
the sky, and the gentle rain. I want dear big, bright 
Mr. Sun, and even the cold old north wind!” What 
he had been missing all came back to him then. 

No more frolics in the trees did Jimmy Frisky have. 
Dogs and cats are terrible enemies of the little 
squirrel, and Aunt Helen was afraid he would be 
caught by one of them if he were let out again. 

So the bottom of his cage was removed, and the 
cage was set down on the lovely green grass. Cool 
and sweet this grass was to Jimmy’s little feet, and 
for a while he loved it. But there came a day when 
his little squirrel heart longed for the trees, when 
his desire for freedom overcame the taming he had 
received in Jane’s beautiful home. 

Jimmy sprang with a strong, quick leap against 


152 


IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 


the side bars of his hateful cage, overturned it, and 
was oh and away. Into the trees he jiunped, frisk- 
ing and flirting his fuzzy tail, while he chattered and 
called out his joy. 

That night little Jane’s heart was heavy. But when 
she went out the next day to say “Good morning” 
to big, bright Mr. Sun, Jimmy Frisky was up in the 
grea,t maple tree to greet her. He winked and scolded 
and chattered at her in the friendliest manner. The 
best part of it was that he made his home right in 
that tree. Jane didn’t lose Jimmy after aU, and many 
were the jolly visits they had together. 


THE GREAT ESCAPE 


There was a hint of evening in the air when 
Stripey Tiger strolled out of his cave and stretched 
his legs after an all-day nap. He stood still a minute 
and glanced about. Up at the Little Hills tinted 
with a soft blue in the twilight, down through the 
twisted green vines and the thick, quiet trees, to- 
ward the Winding Way he looked. 

It was supper Stripey was thinking of, not the 
beautiful Jungle nor the lovely evening. Night is 
the time when most of the Jungle people seek their 
food, and Stripey must provide for Mrs. Stripey 
and the babies. Besides, he was very hungry himself. 
Down to the Winding Way went Stripey, looking 
for a sheltered place in which to hide. 

^Ht must be near the Yellow River, too,’’ thought 
he, ^Hor I do like frequent drinks of water with my 
meals. I just wish that a tender young deer or a 
wild pig would come along. My, but I’m hungry!” 
rumbled Stripey to himself. 

Stripey Tiger knew how suddenly darkness comes 
in the Jungle, that it falls like a thick, soft curtain 
over everything. Although Jungle folk have eyes 
which see wonderfully well in the dark, it’s easier 
to catch one’s prey in the half light of dusk, and it 
is the natural feeding time too. 

153 


154 


IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 


Hello, there’s a fine big rock for a shelter,” 
thought Stripey. ‘‘Now let Grunty, the Wild Pig, 
and Swift, the Antelope, look out!” 

Contentedly he sauntered toward the rock, giving a 
little purr at the thought of supper at last, when 
suddenly his purr changed into a horrible, blood- 
chilling growl. Coming towards Stripey was another 
tiger as large as he, yes, every bit as large 1 This tiger 
didn’t stop a second, but came right on just as fast as 
Stripey did. When Stripey snarled, the other tiger 
curled his lip threateningly too, but made no sound. 

‘‘Get out of my way!” screamed Stripey, with a 
terrible ring in his voice. 

Still the other tiger paid no attention. His mouth 
opened, his teeth gleamed, and his lip curled, but he 
was silent; yet he kept advancing. This was too 
much! Stripey had never been so angry in his life. 

“Not afraid of Stripey Tiger, the biggest and 
fiercest of the whole Jungle tribe? Well, I’ll show 
him!” roared Stripey, giving one mighty lunge toward 
the handsome stranger. 

Then, flash, crash, smash, plunged Stripey through 
flying, dazzling splinters of light, and down, down, 
down into depths of darkness he dropped! Biff, 
bang, came the cool, earthy surface up to meet him. 
On all four feet he fell of course, as cats both large 
and small do. Then Stripey looked around him; 
all was dark. He looked up; there were a few bright 
stars just beginning to twinkle. 


THE GREAT ESCAPE 


155 

But where was that other tiger? Still in a blind 
fury, Stripey ran back and forth and round and 
round, scratching and clawing at the sides of the pit, 
for without a doubt he was in a pit, and alone, yes, 
all alone. Now where could that other tiger be? 
Stripey stopped a minute to think about this mystery. 
He couldn’t solve it. He didn’t know that the people 
of the nearest village, Mawi and Mawi’s father and 
their neighbors, had set a trap for him. He didn’t 
see that they had put a mirror by the edge of the 
pit, and that the other tiger was only a reflection of 
his splendid self. 

After Stripey had thought a long time, his anger 
against the other tiger began to cool, and Stripey 
grew uneasy about himself. How was he to get out. 
of this place? Stripey was getting very much worried, 
for he remembered that once his brother had fallen 
into a pit and disappeared, no one knew where. 

“I’ll try to jump’ out,” thought Stripey hope- 
fully, and he gave a light, springy leap which took 
him half way up the side of the pit. “That will never 
do,” said Stripey aloud. “I’ll have to make a better 
effort than that.” 

“You certainly will,” said a voice from above, and 
when Stripey looked up, there was Husky Tusky 
wagging his trunk in sympathy, also Billie Mongoose 
winking his bright little eyes. Both were thinking 
hard how they could help. 

In the tree overhead, Jacky Monk chattered with 


156 IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

excitement, and Polly Parrot screamed in alarm. 
They had all heard Stripey’s fierce growls and cries, 
and crept up to see what was going on. Usually 
they were afraid of him, but now that he was 
in trouble, they were all very sorry. It was 
terrible to see him leaping and springing with every 
ounce of strength in his long, strong body, and always 
falling short of the mark. Stripey Tiger was suffering 
not with pain, but with fright, and that is sometimes 
worse. The animals, seeing their former enemy so 
helpless, forgot that he was fierce and cruel and were 
truly very sorry for him. 

‘‘Rest a little now,’’ said Husky Tusky, as Stripey 
panted from his exertion. 

. “Then take the longest and strongest leap you 
ever made in your life. Cousin Stripey,” said Blackie 
Panther, who had just come up.” 

“Quick, Stripey, do it now!” cried Polly Parrot 
from the tree top. “I see men coming!” 

“And I feel the thud of their footsteps,” said 
Husky Tusky, putting his sensitive trunk to the ground 

“I know you can do it,” chattered Billie Mongoose 
cheerfully. 

With all this encouragement, Stripey determined to 
try again. Down, down, close to the damp earth he 
crouched. His fine long tail twitched, and his lithe 
body quivered with excitement. Then he made one 
magnificent spring toward the edge of the pit. He 
barely cleared it, but that was enough to bring him 


THE GREAT ESCAPE 


157 

to safety. Off into the deep black shadows of the 
Jungle bounded Stripey, without a word to his com- 
rades. They understood that every second was 
precious to him, and they slipped quietly away, glad 
that poor Stripey Tiger was out of danger. 

None too quickly did they go, for ever so soon 
little brown Mawi and Mawi’s father, with all the 
neighbors from the nearby village, came up to the 
pit and looked in. They expected to find Stripey 
Tiger there, but all that they saw was the big, empty 
pit, its sides clawed and scratched, showing signs of 
a great struggle for liberty. The men were much 
disappointed, but Mawi was glad. He had heard 
of the fate of Stripey’s brother. He knew that the 
other big Tiger had been carried to a far land and 
kept in a cage for people to look at. So down in 
his warm little heart Mawi was glad that Stripey 
was still free and happy in his native Jungle, even 
though he was a dangerous enemy. 


HOW RAFFY GIRAFFE GREW TALL 


Did you ever think you would like to grow taU? 
Well, Raffy Giraffe did, and he found a way to do it, 
too. You see, it is said that long, long ago he was 
short, like most of the other animals, and not bold 
or energetic either. So he wasn’t very important in 
Animal Land. His large brown eyes were timid and 
gentle. He never had a word to say for himself, so 
the others just thought that Raffy didn’t matter at 
all. When it came to browsing for food on the ground 
or within easy reaching distance. Grouchy Camel, or 
Bulky Hippo or Mrs. Ostrich would push shy little 
Raffy Giraffe right out of the way. If he ever saw 
an especially fresh bunch of leaves on a bush, Husky 
Tusky’s quick long trunk would be sure to gather it 
in before he had gained courage to move. 

That wasn’t Raffy’s only trouble, either. He was 
just full of troubles. You see, Mr. Lion thought Raffy 
would make a juicy bit of food, and Raffy had to 
keep his eyes constantly open to see that Mr. Lion 
didn’t pounce on him. Raffy got so in the habit of 
straining his eyes and looking hard that all at once 
they began to stick way out, round and bulgy. Then 
he discovered that he could see all around himself. 
There wasn’t much danger from surprise attacks any 
more. 

158 



i6o IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

“Well, that trouble is nearly over,’' thought Raffy 
to himself, “but the matter of getting food is even 
more important. How appetizing those beautiful 
green leaves away up on that acacia tree do look! 
I wish I could get them, but there isn’t any use in 
wishing. I couldn’t reach them in a thousand years. 
I won’t look at them, for they will just make my 
mouth water. I suppose, though, that there’s no 
harm in trying, as nobody is around to see me. 
There, I knew I couldn’t! I can’t get anywhere near 
them!” 

But each day Raffy Giraffe reached for the tender 
acacia leaves. In spite of his shyness, he had that 
grit which makes people stick to things. Little by 
little he seemed to be getting nearer, until at last 
one day his long tongue touched the delicious green 
leaves, and he knew that his wish had come true. 
Raffy was so excited and interested to see how far 
he could reach that he hadn’t noticed the other 
animals gathering around. 

“Goodness, gracious!” said Jacky Monk, “he’s 
getting up into my territory.” 

“And mine,” screamed Polly Parrot. 

“I never saw such a long neck in my life,” trum- 
peted Husky Tusky. “It beats my trunk!” 

“How in the world did he do it?” they all cried 
in chorus. 

Raffy Giraffe tried to tell them, but he was too 
shy to speak. As a matter of fact, he has never made 


HOW RAFFY GIRAFFE GREW TALL i6i 


a sound to this day, even though he is still the tallest 
animal in the world. 

Then wise Mr. Owl spoke up and said: Don’t 
you know how he did it? Why, he simply reached 
and kept on reaching. The very best things hang 
high, and you grow by reaching for them.” 


THE JUNGLE FLAG 


“Let^s have a picnic,’’ said Billie Mongoose one 
day to a few of his friends, who had gathered in 
the cool of the early morning to talk things over. 

“What is a picnic?” asked Husky Tusky, the 
Elephant. 

“Well, I don’t know very much about it myself,” 
said Billie, “but I heard my friend Mr. Burnet 
talking about one that he. Matey, and Mollie had on 
the last Fourth of July, so I thought it would be fun 
for us to have a picnic this year. Mr. Burnet said 
something about loving one’s country, making a noise, 
and having many good things to eat. I’m sure we 
love our Jungle, and when it comes to making a 
noise Husky Tusky can do that, and we can always 
find plenty of good things to eat.” 

Then Polly Parrot was sent out to get the other 
animals, because she could talk very fast and explain 
everything. Soon they began to come. Among them 
were Carrie Carabao with her best friend Timmy 
Crane sitting on her back, Stripey Tiger, Grouchy 
Camel, who was in a little better humor than usual, 
Humpty, the Sacred Bullock, who felt almost too 
good to go to common Jungle parties, little Lizzie 
Lizard, Jacky Monk, and Flying Squirrel. 

162 


Polly Parrot Painted Big Stars on Stripey Tiger 




AitfVJOW i 



1 64 IN AND OUT OF THE JUNGLE 

“Do you suppose Proudy Peacock will come?’’ 
whispered Jacky to Lizzie Lizard. You see Jacky 
was so talkative he couldn’t keep still and wait 
like the others. 

“I don’t know,” said Lizzie. “He’s not very sociable 
But, oh look! Here he comes with his brother, and 
there are Tweet and Pete, the parakeets, also Mr. 
Leopard, whom nobody quite dares to call by his 
first name. There’s Baby Crocodile crying already! 
That’s how he gets his own way all the time. Here 
comes Bulky Hippopotamus, too. He has a very 
good heart, but no manners at all.” 

“Now where shall we get the feast?” began Baby 
Crocodile, opening his mouth very wide and beginning 
to shed tears. 

“Oh, I know,” shouted Polly Parrot. “You just 
do what I say, and you’ll have a beautiful feast.” 

Polly was especially good at giving orders. She 
sent Jacky Monk running up the cocoanut tree to 
throw down cocoanuts to Husky Tusky, who stood 
underneath to catch them with his trunk. Then 
Bulky Hippo stepped on them hard and cracked 
them. Billie Mongoose found some breadfruit which 
had dropped from a breadfruit tree, so he went to 
work making sandwiches with cinnamon between, and 
Carrie Carabao helped him. Everyone, including 
even Proudy Peacock, brought something, and soon 
they had nutmegs, big brown cacao beans, from which 
our good breakfast cocoa is made, bananas, and sugar 


THE JUNGLE FLAG 165 

cane. Besides, the milk inside the cocoanuts made 
a most delicious drink. 

Now everything was ready. The food looked so 
tempting as it was spread out on the grass that the 
animals all sat right down and began to eat. 

When everyone had finished and there wasnT a 
teeny, weeny crumb left, Billie Mongoose said: ^‘We 
really must sing a song, or wave a flag, or do some- 
thing. But what shall we do for a flag? The one I 
saw at Mr. Burnet’s house had many stars and stripes 
on it, and was very beautiful indeed.” 

Just then Stripey Tiger, who had been as quiet as 
could be all this time, waved his tail, which gave 
Billie a wonderful idea, and he exclaimed: “We’ll 
paint stars on Stripey and let him be the flag!” 

Everyone shouted with joy at this, and Stripey felt 
so flattered that he didn’t care any more that the 
food hadn’t been much to his taste. Polly Parrot 
went for some indigo, which grows in the Jungle, and 
painted lots of big blue stars on Stripey. Of course, 
they ought to have been white stars, but these ani- 
mals weren’t Americans and so didn’t know any 
better. Then Stripey Tiger waved and waved the 
best he could, making himself very wiggly, while all 
the other folks gave three rousing cheers for Billie 
Mongoose, who had suggested the picnic in the 
Jungle. 





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